The cosiest lunch at Kensington gem, Maggie Jones’s
*We were guests of Maggie Jones's
Maggie Jones’s opened in 1964 under a completely different name – Nan’s Kitchen. Nestled discreetly in a Cul-de-sac off Kensington Church Street, it’s no wonder that it quickly became a favourite haunt of Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon – not only for its location but also for its food and service. They used to book under the name ‘Maggie Jones’, secrete themselves in an intimate wooden booth and order chicken pie (excellent choice). To honour this connection to the royal pair, the restaurant changed its name to Maggie Jones’s in the 1970s, and here we are.
The restaurant itself is an Aladdin’s Cave of treasures and artefacts in one of the most pristine and elegant neighbourhoods. Everything from kitchen utensils, baskets of dried lavender, childhood knick knacks and curious curiosities to army paraphernalia hangs from the walls and the ceiling – I spied a rocking horse above my head as I was marvelling at the ENORMOUS dresser, creaking under the weight of, what seemed to be, every piece of crockery Portobello market has to offer.
It’s utterly delightful. The restaurant is candlelit and very romantic – many a proposal and plenty first dates have taken place here… Maggie Jones’s will have some very beautiful tales to tell, I’m certain… You absolutely have to book and you’ll be lucky to get a table on the weekend as many locals make a Sunday Roast at Maggie Jones’s part of their regular weekend ritual. It’s loved and adored and kept well under one’s hat, because if the word got out, then, well, there’d be a queue down Kensington High Street and the draw of it being so discreet would be gone.
Calf’s liver with bacon 
Avocado vinaigrette 
The menu is one of the most comforting I’ve ever seen, with childhood favourites such as sausage and mash, fish pie and liver and bacon (I chose this -I can’t resist it) being some of my favourites. The restaurant is famous for its hearty stews, pies and proper puddings – I had my eye on the bread and butter pud, but I’d gobbled up all of my starter and main course, so alas, ’twas not to be. (The portions are the kind of size Nan herself would have served you for supper. Not small. Belt-looseningly hearty.) There are starters straight out of the seventies – we had prawn cocktail and avocado vinaigrette – and it all felt like one ginormous hug.
The floorboards are creaky, the stairs are narrow, and the heavy pine tables make you feel as though you’re in a country farmhouse with ‘Nan’ herself, cooking away in the kitchen… but she’s not. It is Rafal Kaczmarczyk. And he’s nailing it.
Burnt Cream 
We enjoyed a dessert of ‘Burnt Cream’ and a granny teapot of fresh mint tea to finish. And I really didn’t want to leave. But we had to pick Izzy up from school, so hanging out at Maggie’s for the rest of the afternoon, sipping tea and munching on apple crumble with custard was not to be, but have earmarked for a future date.
Maggie Jones’s is a Kensington Institution and I suggest that you don’t tell a soul about it and instead, book yourself a table and then tell me all about it. (Oh and maybe don’t have any breakfast the day you go – you’ll thank me when you realise you can fit in pudding).
Thank you, Maggie Jones’s for having us!
Maggie Jones’s
6 Old Court Place, Kensington Church Street
London W8 4PL
