The National Portrait Gallery’s new restaurant is a fabulous upgrade

It’s possible that you’ve never paid much attention to London’s gallery and museum restaurants, but once you start looking for them, there are many. The British Museum’s Great Court Restaurant, under its iconic glass ceiling; Skye Gyngell’s temple to veg, Spring, at Somerset House; high-end tapas at José Pizarro at the Royal Academy of Arts. They’re not the edgiest joints in town, nor somewhere you’d drop in for an impromptu bite. Instead, what they’re great for is a gift – an art fix and a posh lunch or dinner as a day out. I have such a food-and-art pairing in mind when I take my dad to The Portrait, the new Richard Corrigan restaurant at the National Portrait Gallery. Tucked at the top of the Trafalgar Square building, in a former glass-edged event space where windows are filled with a pleasing cityscape of London rooftops, it opened on 5 July, the final touch to a major three-year renovation of the gallery that finished in June. It’s open for lunch Sunday to Tuesday, and both lunch and dinner Wednesday to Saturday. The Portrait also opened just days after the launch, to much fanfare, of Sir Paul McCartney’s NPG exhibition Eyes of the Storm. A behind-the-scenes look at The Beatles’ dizzying rise to fame in 1963 and ’64, followed by fine dining, sounds right up mine and my dad’s street – a classic central London day out. The NPG has certainly had a glow-up since I last visited. A polished new entrance hall and welcome desk, gliding escalators, vividly painted galleries and rehung portraits. After marvelling at McCartney’s handwritten lyrics to I Wanna Hold Your Hand, and the youthful ease and joy of an off-duty John Lennon frolicking in Miami, we drop in on the Tudors before heading up to The Portrait. It’s a rather corporate-feeling but convivial scene, with linen-trousered and pastel-shirted guests talking art over elegant plates of fish and meat, gleaming glassware and white napkins. What jazzes up the simple pine tables and steel-framed open kitchen is the view: a long, slim panorama featuring the National Gallery’s ornate dome, the London Eye, Nelson’s Column, the Houses of Parliament and the tower of St-Martin-in-the-Fields. Along one sloping wall is a butter-yellow mural of the gallery’s exterior, which marketing materials tell me are bespoke linen panels by wallpaper-maker-to-the-stars de Gournay – but otherwise the Brady Williams Studio has kept the design light and minimal, letting the view, and the food, do the talking. Here’s what it has to say: instantly intriguing things about artichoke with crab mayonnaise and kombu (kelp seaweed powder), “snails bolognaise” over conchigliette, a duck heart vol au vent, pig’s trotter with borlotti beans and something described only as “cauliflower, yeast, seeds”. (We skip that one.) Much of it is what you’d expect from Corrigan – earthy flavours from the UK and Ireland, plenty of fish and veg present, but with a few curiosities thrown in. We kick off with Carlingford oysters zinged up with ginger, lime and coriander – “This is no stuffy seafood restaurant”, they clearly declare. My dad is presented with his artichoke starter, a glorious fan of outer petals cupping a nicely roasted centre, topped with a crab-rich seafood sauce and umami-packed powder. Both are light, flavour-packed and made for a champagne toast. Next we dig into that escargots bolognese, and pork with barigoule of fennel and apricot mustard. The bolognese is rich and nicely seasoned with a pleasantly meaty texture, but the pasta shells fall slightly flat with a fairly bland, creamy sauce; I long for a more moreish dish where the pasta enhances rather than simply supports the bolognese. The Huntsham’s Farm pork wins more points with its melting richness, set off by the vinegary tang of the fennel and peppery-fruity sauce. Our friendly and approachable waiter talks through some wine-by-the-glass options for us, picking out a refreshing Sauvignon Blanc and a Chianti to suit our respective dishes. Service is quick and efficient, but with no trace of being rushed through and out – there’s plenty of time to linger and talk over the view. Which we do for well over an hour and a half, given we can hear each other clearly (always a bonus for a dad and daughter meet-up). Unusually for both of us, we indulge in a pudding: I can’t resist the English cherries with goat’s milk ice cream, a fabulous clash of jammy sweetness and savoury tartness. Dad goes for the rum baba, soaked in a generous boozy sauce with enough fresh pineapple to cut through the sweetness. Like our choices of sides – olive oil mash and broccolini with almonds – everything is instantly appealing while having some sort of flourish we may not have had before. When I thought of a gallery lunch, I pictured perfectly fine fish fillets and chicken cutlets, rather than my first snail pasta dish, my first goat’s milk ice cream and my first Asian-spiced oyster all in one sitting. With dainty-portioned mains at £22-£32, there are no bargain bites, but the style of food and the option of set menus (£28 for two courses, £35 for three) feels nicely suited to an exhibition ticket as a present or treat. You could easily jazz up that £28 prix fixe with a £15 glass of champagne or The Portrait’s strawberry and balsamic bellini. A meal here can be as good value and restrained or lavish and decadent as you make it – surely true of any day out in the capital. And with most of the National Portrait Gallery free to view (not to mention freshened up, with the visitor experience streamlined) it’s a fabulous upgrade for a low-key afternoon of art. The Portrait Restaurant, The National Portrait Gallery, St Martin’s Place, London WC2H 0HE | 020 3872 7610 | theportraitrestaurant.com Read More The Union Rye, review: Finally, a decent restaurant in this charming East Sussex town Forest Side: Heavenly Cumbrian produce elevated to Michelin-starred proportions Papi: Pandemic troublemakers’ restaurant is a fun, flirty hit The dish that defines me: Alex Outhwaite’s Vietnamese bun cha 3 TikTok-approved recipes for picnic season It’s easier to make baklava at home than you might think