milan meets shanghai | mi shang prada rong zhai

Cambridge’s Chesterton Road has long been home to one of the county’s most sought-after dining rooms, the Michelin-starred Restaurant 22. Yet, for those craving the exacting standards of Chef Sam Carter and the polished hospitality of Alex Olivier without the months-long waiting list, there is now an alternative – and it’s just a few doors down.

Margaret’s, the younger sibling of the duo’s flagship venue, opened earlier this year and has quickly cemented itself as the city’s essential neighbourhood bistro. Named after a beloved regular and dear friend, Margaret’s embodies its ethos: a place for returning often, for lingering and for enjoying high-quality cooking without the unnecessary fuss. As Carter and Olivier explain, the dedication to provenance and technique is the same, but the approach is distinctly refreshing and laid-back.

The intimate space itself reflects this philosophy of relaxed elegance. Designed by Olivier and the team, the contemporary interiors feature natural materials like clay plaster walls and oak flooring, warmed by a chic palette of burgundy and blush with antique brass accents, marble tables and plush banquette seating. The founders also chose to support independent makers from their hometown, Vale of Belvoir. Every Story, a team of sisters and potters along with Roo Robertson from Kent, created their crockery.

As we head into the depths of winter, Margaret’s has resisted the urge to roll out a cliché Christmas menu. Instead, the kitchen is doing what it does best: following the seasons. The menu changes rhythmically, relying on the British larder and the the relationships Carter has built with local suppliers over the years. Vegetables arrive from Flourish, a regenerative farm just miles down the road, and dairy hails from the celebrated Fen Farm.

The true star of the colder months, however, is the Sunday Roast. Margaret’s has positioned itself as the city’s ultimate Sunday destination, offering a £65 feast that transcends the typical pub roast. The experience begins not with a single starter, but a wave of refined snacks for the table: rosemary and sea salt focaccia with dips; warming cups of Delica pumpkin soup and delicate plates of Yellowtail with apple and shiso. It balances the comfort of a duck leg fritter with the freshness of local Flourish peppers.

Speaking of mains, the current favourite is the Roasted Sirloin of Magness Farm Angus Beef, served with beef fat confit carrots and a celeriac purée. But the Yorkshire pudding, which arrives accompanied by rich, slow-cooked ox cheek, might be the second-best selection. With roast potatoes, seasonal greens and jugs of extra gravy provided, this is the indulgent, quality gathering that winter weekends demand. Desserts keep the comfort levels high, featuring classics like Bramley apple crumble or a pear, hazelnut and ginger trifle.

The quality control extends to the drinks. The wine list, curated by Georgia Goddard, highlights terroir-driven bottles from local merchants, including Thorne Wines and Cambridge Wine Merchants, and beers from Baron Brewing. However, the cocktail list features a particularly personal touch: the Margaret’s Martini.

This signature drink utilises a bespoke gin created in collaboration with Vault Aperitivo in nearby Saffron Walden. “This started with discussions with Dan Joines, who is the founder of Vault, where we discussed the flavours we love and what we wanted to incorporate into the gin,” says Olivier. “We settled on a blend of lemon verbena, lemon thyme, black pepper and bay. These are flavours we all loved and felt would work really well in the various drinks we would be using them in.” The bay leaves used in the distillation were actually grown by a regular guest named Rosemary. It makes for a Martini that feels both sophisticated and deeply local. 

Vault’s vermouths are used across both Margaret’s and 22, but the founders are now looking to introduce their signature limoncello to the menu, just in time for Christmas.

For those looking to ring in 2026 with excellent food but without the stiffness of a gala dinner, Margaret’s will be open for New Year’s Eve.

photography. courtesy of Matt Hague
words. Gennaro Costanzo

If Café Kitsuné’s original London outpost in Belgravia is the “understated, elegant, discreet and poised” character, its new sibling is the complete opposite. According to Johanna Lellouche, General Deputy Director of Kitsuné Group, the brand’s new Covent Garden location, which opened its doors in August, is “the lively friend: expressive, curious and always on the move”.

The French-Japanese lifestyle brand has landed at 55 Monmouth Street, a move Lellouche explains was a natural fit. “We’re drawn to places with strong cultural energy,” she says. “Covent Garden is vibrant, creative, constantly alive – it’s the perfect backdrop for us.”

The 530 sq.ft destination is a cosy, 15-seat haven set over two floors. The design language, which Lellouche says is key to the brand’s 35 locations worldwide, is an “effortless blend of Parisian elegance and Japanese simplicity, with a London edge”. The space features warm wood, a counter that echoes the brand’s Beijing café and curated artwork from the French creative duo Sacrée Frangine to give the space its soul.

It’s a café designed to be a flexible refuge from the area’s wonderful chaos. “I hope guests feel a cosy atmosphere,” Lellouche says. “It’s a place to slow down and enjoy a good coffee. You can grab your drink to go and wander through Covent Garden, or sit downstairs in our intimate space for a quiet break away from the bustle.”

The main draw, of course, is the menu, which expertly merges French patisserie with Japanese flavour profiles. As a pioneer of matcha in Paris since 2014, the brand’s expertise is on full display. The menu features its cult-status Fox Cookies alongside matcha financiers and hazelnut miso cookies. 

When asked for her personal favourite, Lellouche admits her loyalty is split. “The Fox Cookie is definitely a star!” she says. “I love anything matcha; our matcha coconut latte is a personal favourite and I can’t resist the matcha cookie.” This is all served alongside specials like Iced Strawberry Matcha Lattes and Yuzu & Honey drinks.

This new opening is the latest step in a careful global expansion that includes bars in New York, Tokyo and even a restaurant and day club in Bali. It’s a key part of the Maison Kitsuné ecosystem, which has been in the works since 2002. It all started with a perfect ‘Paris-meets-Tokyo’ partnership: Gildas Loaëc, the artistic director and manager for none other than Daft Punk, brought the unimpeachable French electronic vibes, while Masaya Kuroki, a Japanese-born architect, brought a precise, minimalist aesthetic.

They started Kitsuné Musique first, building their cultural credibility with a series of now-legendary ‘Kitsuné Maison’ compilation albums that launched artists like Phoenix and Digitalism. It wasn’t until 2005 that the fashion line, Maison Kitsuné, officially dropped. While other brands were loud, Kitsuné was preppy, sharp and clean. It was the anti-merch: classic cardigans, perfect oxfords and tailored staples, all branded with a subtle, mischievous fox logo.

It all links back to the name. ‘Kitsuné’ is the Japanese word for fox, a mythical creature famous for having many faces and the ability to change its appearance. This was the core concept from day one: a single brand that could be a music label, a fashion house and, as this new Covent Garden café proves, a global lifestyle destination.

photography. courtesy of Café Kitsuné
words. Gennaro Costanzo

When OKA’s founder Maxim Streletzki found himself at Yamataro – a celebrated shop in the Zoshigaya neighbourhood known for its generous, expertly formed rice balls and its lineage from the legendary Onigiri Bongo – he experienced a moment of unadorned perfection. This was the idea he brought back to Berlin, a city that loves bold statements, and presented to Chef Kaoru Iriyama.

For centuries, the humble onigiri has been Japan’s beloved comfort food, representing a pocket-sized snack of affection. A perfect onigiri consists of three simple components: white rice, a savoury filling and a wrapping of nori (seaweed). Now, OKA is bringing this vision to the German capital, highlighting the artistry behind each rice ball. 

Iriyama is a culinary professional engaged in the highest ranks of Japanese haute cuisine, a student of the rigorous Kaiseki master Hirohisa Koyama. As a traditional Japanese cuisine style deeply rooted in Buddhist philosophy, Kaiseki teaches that true beauty is born from humility.

To the outside eye, asking a Kaiseki-trained chef to make simple onigiri might seem like asking a concert pianist to play scales. But for Iriyama, it was the ultimate application of her craft. The most difficult, subtle art she learned was a profound philosophy of control.

“From my training in Kaiseki cuisine, I learned above all to act with respect towards the ingredients, towards others and towards nature. And to discipline one’s own ego,” Iriyama explains. “In Kaiseki, the ingredient is always at the centre, not the chef. Our role is to bring out the natural beauty and intrinsic flavour of each ingredient, not to showcase our own skills. We are simply accompanying what nature has already created.”

This principle is the soul of their small restaurant on Oranienburgerstraße – and Berlin’s first Onigiri Chef’s Table. Iriyama actively resists the “tempting” urge to impress. You will not find the onigiri served on decorative porcelain. Instead, they arrive on a plain Japanese bamboo tray, a decision made to “keep the focus where it belongs: on the rice itself.”

This philosophical commitment, however, must survive in the harsh reality of Berlin’s current gastronomic climate. Iriyama is keenly aware that opening a premium concept built on imported ingredients while costs are high and consumers are cautious is a delicate act. 

Their strategy, she reveals, is as focused as their food. “To still maintain the quality we insist on, we’ve deliberately kept our menu lean and focused entirely on onigiri. No wide-ranging offer like ramen or sushi, but a tightly considered concept.” This, combined with high-efficiency rice washing and cooking machines imported from Japan, allows them to operate without compromising on the craft that defines them.

Of course, Iriyama knows that many Berliners will initially misunderstand the concept. “We actually encounter that little misunderstanding almost every day and that’s perfectly fine,” she says with patience. “Japan is far away, and cultural nuances take time to be understood.” 

Instead of frustration, she sees these moments as an opportunity to connect. When a guest asks for soy sauce (a sushi condiment, not an onigiri one), the team gently explains the difference. When they ask for chopsticks, Iriyama offers them, but also shares the true context: “Onigiri is Japan’s version of a sandwich, a warm, handmade snack, a small piece of everyday Japanese culture meant to be held and enjoyed by hand. Guests love this story. It creates a beautiful moment.”

And although they don’t plan to have an exclusive German filling (yet), they’re always aiming to find thoughtful ways to integrate local flavours into their onigiris.

This desire to reframe Japanese culture is at the very heart of OKA’s design. Iriyama was determined to escape the tired visual language often forced upon Japanese restaurants. “I feel deeply grateful that Japanese food culture is so appreciated, yet this interest is often reduced to clichés: sakura blossoms, zen or anime. I wanted to free Japanese food culture from those stereotypes.” In Berlin, a city “open to the new,” OKA’s contemporary space, designed by Brinkworth, proves that modernity can harmonise beautifully with tradition. It’s a space where every member of the all-Japanese team can share the “connection, care and quiet love” inherent in the food, with pride.

Iriyama’s ambition is not for applause, but for a meaningful exchange. Her hope is that guests feel a sense of Japanese hospitality, or as she describes it, “warm but discreet, never intrusive and always attentive.”

photography. courtesy of Robert Rieger
words. Gennaro Costanzo