Late Night Dining - I’m with Jeremy King

Published 14.04.2025

There was a time when finishing work at midnight didn’t mean collapsing into an Uber and eating toast over the sink. It meant going out.

When I was in New York, we’d wrap up service, splash a bit of water on our faces, maybe change our shirt (maybe not), and head out—usually to a place that got it. Places like Blue Ribbon or Lucky Strike. Somewhere open late, with actual food, where the staff looked just as knackered as we were.

It wasn’t about partying. It was about exhaling with people who’d just been through the same war. We’d sit down, order too much, talk nonsense, complain about table 6, and laugh harder than we probably had all week.

And now? I’m in London. Amazing food, incredible talent—but late-night dining? Basically non-existent unless you want to hit Chinatown, a chicken shop, or a hotel bar where a cocktail costs more than your hourly rate.

There’s no real culture for it here. No proper spots where hospitality folks head after a shift to unwind, refuel, and be around their own. And I can’t help but wonder—why

Is it the transport nightmare? Is it licensing red tape? Staffing issues? Or has it just become too expensive to keep the lights on for a handful of people finishing work when the rest of the city’s going to bed?

Whatever the reason, I miss it. I miss the ritual. I miss sitting down with my team, having a proper meal, and talking shop in a place that didn’t feel like an afterthought. No playlists from hell. No laminated menus. Just good food and better company.

I’d love to know—who’s still doing this in London? Who’s out there keeping the kitchen open past midnight, not just for punters, but for the people actually working in this industry?

Tag them. Shout them out. And if you’ve got a space and want to make it happen—call me. I’ll bring the appetite, the sarcasm, and probably a good story about table 6.