Last Updated on February 20, 2026
4.5 out of 5.0 starsSunday feasting in Marylebone
Re-imagining the Sunday roast is a phrase that might not go down well with the traditionalists seeking roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. For everyone else, Fire and Wine is a wonderful mix of cosy vibes, good service, and a Sunday lunch menu that ticks all the boxes. The chef, Zisis Gkalmpenis, hails from Greece and pairs Mediterranean and French influences. With his Sunday feast lunch menu, he sets out to rethink some of the classic roast dinners while keeping some of the basics. As the restaurant’s name suggests, open-flame cooking takes centre stage.

Located on a quiet side street in Marylebone, Fire and Wine boasts an inviting interior that can be described as rustic chic. Brass-covered table tops rest on thick sections of a tree trunk. These tables are polished overnight to maintain their mirror-like sheen. Below the large windows overlooking the street, we sat on a brown suede banquette which sported caramel cushions. Pale linen curtains hung alongside the front door. The lighting was contemporary, while the ceiling fans rotated from the wooden ceiling. A bar runs down one side of the dining room. Attractive brass objects were dotted about, my favourite being a large milk pail. In the basement, there is a private dining room. You can have a drink on the terrace on the pavement outside, and there is a covered terrace off the back of the restaurant.

The interior is as welcoming as the staff, who genuinely want you to enjoy the food and the experience they offer. This is not a table-turning restaurant, and you can easily spend the afternoon here. We left reluctantly at 4 pm only because we had another event to attend. The Sunday lunch menu is quite fabulous, and I wish I had brought extra friends so that we could try the entire menu. The menu is well-crafted to incorporate the needs of pescatarians, vegetarians, and vegans, which is a treat considering it is a reasonably small selection. There are four small plates, three large plates, three roasts, two sides and two desserts.
We began with the cocktail menu, which has seven offerings, including two that are non-alcoholic. My husband enjoyed a No Politics (great idea for Sunday lunch), which incorporated gin, Campari, and wild strawberry. It was a vibrant ruby colour and was garnished with kumquat. I chose a Jolene, a 0% sparkling rosé with strawberries and verjus. Served in a pretty glass, it had a salt rim that balanced the sweetness of the light pink mocktail.

We were advised to choose one small plate each, one large plate to share, and one roast each. The portions were so generous that I later admired the two women at the next table who ordered a roast each, as that is more than enough. Some might argue that a Sunday lunch comprises three courses, and for good measure, we had four.
The small plates all looked tempting. Eventually, we decided on tiger prawns, lemongrass, and chilli, plus a pressed rabbit, grape mustard, and tarragon. Two large prawns were served on a bed of chopped, cooked apple and lemongrass. They were meaty, sweet, and well-charred. Flavours were gentle with a discernible, faint chilli heat within the fruity notes. A rust-coloured shellfish bisque had depth of flavour and rounded out the seafood theme.

The pressed rabbit was outstanding, easily one of the finest rabbit dishes I have savoured in some time. It would confidently hold its head up high in France, where rabbit is served more widely than in UK restaurants. A warm slice of pressed rabbit perched above a pool of grape mustard and alongside a quenelle of horseradish and mustard Chantilly cream. The meaty flavour was utterly gorgeous and the meat was well seasoned and flecked with green tarragon, while the grape mustard was a revelation as was the wonderfully creative cream alongside. Each mouthful imparted meaty, creamy, sweet notes. I would return to Fire and Wine for this dish alone. When the chef came to have a chat, I quizzed him about this dish. He told us that it takes 24 hours to prepare. First, the meat is slowly braised, then pressed, and finally grilled very briefly. Sadly, he did not tell us how to make the grape mustard but if it was bottled, I would gift it to every foodie I know.

At this point, my husband chose a glass of a full-bodied Argentinian Malbec – Grand Malbec, Alpasión, Ezequiel Manoni, Mendoza, 2020. The wine list is composed of old and new world wines, a baker’s dozen of whites and another of reds, with a few rosés and orange wines, and sparklings. One of the latter was non-alcoholic, and I enjoyed a glass of Kisumé Rosé 0%, Aubert & Mathieu, Languedoc-Roussillon, 2023. I have tasted many non-alcoholic sparkling wines over the past few years and have now noted this French offering as one of the best I have sampled. The growing cohort of diners who limit their alcohol intake or avoid it entirely means that restaurants really need to have alternatives that are worth drinking. Fire and Wine does that.
We asked the chef to recommend which large plate we should share, and there was that tricky moment when you ask a professional to choose their favourite child, and it turns out that they do have one. Brie tortelloni, chard and black pepper arrived, beautifully presented in a large bowl. The chef had lightly smoked the brie, which transformed its taste profile, although the distinct brie flavour still shone through. The pasta is homemade daily, and here there were two large tortelloni filled with smoked brie and mascarpone and topped with a Parmesan foam. They sat on a bed of grilled chard with its vegetal flavour cutting through the richness of the three cheeses. This was a luxuriously rich dish and would be sufficient for a light lunch along with a green salad.

Now it was the turn of the meats to shine. We eschewed the red Suffolk pork belly with bone jus and chose corn-fed chicken with sauce diable and 32-day-aged picanha with Espagnole sauce. Spring greens, thyme and honey parsnips, agria potatoes with sea salt and Pecorino, and fire bread accompanied each plentiful dish. It felt like Christmas had arrived early.
The picanha was served rare, cut into thick slices. The well-aged meat was so intensely flavoured as to be almost gamey. The sauce was delicious, and the fire bread made an excellent vehicle for the scarpetta, the mopping of the sauce with a heel of bread, as the Italians say. The fire bread was a small round loaf, cut into quarters. It had a sourdough flavour and was beautifully grilled. This is one of the chef’s re-imaginings of the Sunday roast, and I would vote any day for this excellent bread over a Yorkshire pudding for Sunday lunch.

The roast potatoes were served on their own plate, dusted with sea salt and grated Pecorino, sufficient to feed a family. We hardly made a dent in the pile as there was so much else to eat. The parsnips were the kind you would expect at Christmas. The spring greens had a saucy dressing.
I love chicken, but rarely order it when eating out as I cook it so often at home. However, I was curious to enjoy what the professionals do, and Fire and Wine was a fine place to do so. The portion for Sunday lunch was so large that, had I not been eating with my husband, a man with a good appetite who can almost always finish what’s on my plate after clearing his, the chef might have thought I didn’t enjoy my meal. And enjoy it I certainly did. The chicken was very tender and well-seasoned. It had been brined, then poached sous vide and then grilled. This is way beyond what happens in a domestic kitchen, and I enjoyed every mouthful of this well-textured and flavoured chook. The chef poured the sauce diable from a small copper pot onto the chicken. It was mildly spicy and added extra juiciness to the dish.

Dessert was an indulgence too far after this capacious meal. Yet we felt we would be letting the review down without trying one of each option. As I am allergic to pineapple, my husband ordered the pineapple, yoghurt, olive oil, where squares of grilled pineapple were served on a yoghurt mousse with olive oil and lemon balm. I could see that the pineapple had a good char, and I am told that the grilled flavour balanced the sweetness of the fruit. I had a taste of the yoghurt mousse, wherein the yoghurt had been whipped to the consistency of cream, and was lovely with lemon balm. I will be trying that at home.

I had the second dessert on the menu – almost classic tart tatin. This was a deconstructed tart tatin, a Pink Lady terrine with pressed, cooked layers of mandolin-thin apple slices. Above the slice of apple terrine was a very thin layer of puff pastry on which was piped vanilla cream with tonka bean. Beneath the slice was a pool of caramel and apple sauce. Despite having eaten such a large Sunday lunch, I found this dessert to be most refreshing.
Whenever I review a restaurant, I ask myself two questions: would I return and would I recommend it to friends and family? Fire and Wine easily gets a YES on both counts. The venue is casual yet rustic-chic; the welcome is as warm as the portions are large, and the food is fascinating, full of twists and surprises. It is precisely the kind of place to enjoy a leisurely Sunday lunch with people who enjoy their food and are looking for a lunch outside the roast box. For those who live in the neighbourhood, this is without question somewhere to frequent. For others, it is a destination worth adding to your list. Sunday lunch is served from 12:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m.
Fire and Wine
23 New Quebec Street,
London
W1H 7SD
020 3006 7000
Check our review of the Fire and Wine weekday menu here

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