Don’t Tell Dad Review: Nostalgic Comfort Food in a Charming London Mews

Sibling mischief and childhood memories are on the menu at Don’t Tell Dad, the latest opening from Daniel Land; our Don’t Tell Dad review explores whether this ode to nostalgia hits the mark. Expect elevated comfort food and a wine list that’s worth asking the bartender about.

Review: Don’t Tell Dad, Queen’s Park

Don’t Tell Dad, the new restaurant from Coco di Mama founder Daniel Land, is nestled in probably one of London’s loveliest mews. Lonsdale Road used to stable Hackney Carriages, and now it’s a pedestrianised patchwork of creative businesses, bars and restaurants – a self described ‘village within a street’. Don’t Tell Dad slots into this electric scene effortlessly, as a local neighbourhood bakery slash restaurant promising familiarity at every turn. 

That sense of familiarity is no accident. The restaurant is Land’s tribute to his late sister Lesley, the name a nod to sibling mischief. Every detail is a joyful ode to a shared childhood, told through play, comfort and nostalgia. And it works. There are touches of love everywhere. 

The space sets the tone.  Diner-style booths are tucked together conspiratorially, perfect for playing footsie (or kicking a sibling). The marble countertops invite you to perch and chat while watching dinner come together. A retro-tiled floor adds a cheerful, old-school charm. The overall effect is warm and nostalgic – but without clinging to the past.

This kind of setting raises expectations, and, thankfully, Don’t Tell Dad overdelivers at every stage. 

First, the drinks. 

The cocktail list is concise but considered, comprising seasonal twists on classics. The rhubarb and almond sour, for example, floats a candied garnish in its tangy, wincy foam. And there’s the spritz, which rotates based on what’s fresh – it’s blood orange when I visit. These are very good. 

However, it’s the wine list that’s the real star. It’s clearly been put together with passion – and for this reason it’s more of an ‘ask the bartender’ kind of deal. They’ll have a young, modern selection for you to try. Take the orange Pinot Gris; it’s more delicate than funky and it’s not hwat you might expect from a skin-contact wine. The organic rjioja, too, from Senorio de Librares is so fun – light and bright, it pairs neatly with the more delicate dishes on the menu. It’s from a third-generation vineyard that isn’t stuck in tradition, but playing around with planet-conscious growing methods – family-owned, too. The bar team are expert at drawing out these details. 

When you order, do not miss the oxtail crumpet. (You’ll end up woefully jealous as it marches to the next table, if you do.) This is a mountain of slow-cooked meat crowning a crisp, golden crumpet, soaked in fat. The truffle cheddar beignet is just as good, buried under an avalanche of finely grated cheese, served with a mushroom ketchup that you’ll invariably mop up with a fingertip. These are the kind of snacks that you make your return visit for; it’s comfort food under the guise of fine dining. Breakfast for dinner, and cheese croquettes – but grown-up. 

Mains are similarly elevated childhood classics. The lamb is a perfect Sunday roast served on a weeknight. Anchovy butter is its companion, as are turnips and shallots. Try the game meat, too. This rotates regularly with seasonality in mind. On my visit, I try the partridge. It could be overpowered by the uber-sweet date and carrot purrée but it comes together in circus-performer balance.  

Given that Don’t Tell Dad operates a bakery by day, you can expect seriously thought-out baked desserts. And success! The madeleines in particular sing (and I mean this without exaggeration; I have never had any as good as this in London, nor Paris). They’re warm, feather-light, served with a tangy sour cherry cream and so numerous. It’s really one to share with your co-diner unless you have Man v Food ambitions. 

As there’s a proper coffee machine here, you also must grab a little fingertip espresso. And if you’re doing that, the chocolate orange mousse is a must. 

If you’re lucky, a little chocolate might even smear the corners of your mouth, bringing you full circle to childhood photos in this ultimate comfort restaurant.

10-14 Lonsdale Rd, London NW6 6RD, donttelldad.co.uk