Dorian – Notting Hill’s Chicly Cramped, Dog-Friendly Darling
There are restaurants that feel effortlessly of-the-moment, and then there’s Dorian, tucked along Talbot Road in Notting Hill. Part bistro, part neighbourhood hangout, it’s become one of the trendiest tables to snag in west London — the sort of place that’s always humming, and always seems to have someone you half-recognise from somewhere.
It’s chic, yes, but not showy. Think modern British comfort food done with polish, served in a space so intimately laid out that you can practically join the next table’s conversation without trying. That closeness, as it turns out, is both part of its charm and its occasional chaos.
A Tight Squeeze — Especially with a Dog in Tow
Dorian is dog-friendly, which makes it all the more appealing — though I’ll admit, bringing George and Lulu into such tight quarters requires a bit of choreography. The tables are snug, the aisles narrow, and there’s always a waiter gracefully balancing a tray inches from your chair. But somehow, that’s part of the experience: a touch of chaos, a dash of glamour, and always a story waiting to happen.
And with George and Lulu around, there’s always a story.
The Night of the Miami Couple
One evening, it was George and Lulu who broke the ice. They’d been quietly sitting under the table — model dogs, as usual — when the couple next to us smiled and said, “Such cute and good dogs!” That was all it took for the conversation to start flowing.
As it turned out, the pair were visiting from Miami, having flown in for a restaurant opening elsewhere in London. But before heading there, they told us, they had to try Dorian. “Everyone said this is the place to be,” they laughed.
They weren’t wrong. Between the beautiful plates of food and the low, golden lighting, Dorian has that unmistakable insider energy — the kind of spot where you feel like you’re exactly where you should be, even if your dogs have just made you new friends.
The Steak (and the Brother)
Another evening, two men at the table beside us ordered Dorian’s famous steak for two — an impressive, almost theatrical slab of perfectly charred meat that looked like it could feed a small army. I’d secretly wanted to order it myself, but Jacqui, my dining companion that night, doesn’t eat red meat, so I’d reluctantly passed.
We joked across the tables — “Hope you have a dog?” I said, meaning they might need a doggy bag for the leftovers. One of them laughed and replied, “No, but I have a brother.”
That broke the ice. Before long, we were chatting about food, travel, and London dining habits — and in a very un-London moment, they even offered me a couple of slices to try. It was as delicious as rumoured: juicy, smoky, and unapologetically rich. The sort of steak you need a good glass of red, a sense of humour, and a bit of stamina for.
Why Dorian Works
What makes Dorian special is that it doesn’t take itself too seriously. It’s elegant without being aloof, intimate without being stiff, and convivial enough that strangers become dinner companions for a night.
Yes, the space is tight. Yes, the tables are close. But that’s precisely what makes it memorable — you feel part of the scene, not just an observer.
If there’s one drawback, it’s that Dorian’s popularity comes with a price — time. Once you’re seated, the service is brisk, sometimes bordering on hurried, as staff make way for the next round of eager diners. It’s efficient, yes, but occasionally you wish you could linger a little longer over dessert or that final glass of wine.
Still, when the food, the company, and the atmosphere are this good, you can forgive a little haste. After all, Dorian is one of those rare places where every visit leaves you with a story — even if you have to tell it quickly before your table’s needed again.
📍 Dorian, 105, 107 Talbot Rd, London W11 2AT
🐾 Dog-friendly (though bring your most compact manners!)
🍷 doriannottinghill.com
