Looking for hot pots in London? We’ve got you covered with an essential guide to all the best Korean, Chinese and Japanese hot pot restaurants in the capital.
Hot pot – a perfect meal for sharing with friends, a sumptuous feast to be engorged upon over an evening, and to some, a challenge to see how hot you can take it.
Whether you’re in the camp for Korean-style army stews, or looking to sear your lips off with face-meltingly hot Sichuan spices, London has plenty to choose from.
Read on so you can get to eating your way round all the best hot pot restaurants London has to offer.
Best Hot Pot in London
Haidilao
We couldn’t write a guide about hotpot and not add in this old timer. On the streets of China, Haidilao is about as ubiquitous as McDonald’s or Starbucks.
Even with all those restaurants they can’t quench demand enough to abate queuing time and so cleverly added some free pastimes you can engage in while you wait for a table.
The formula stays the same for London. You can get free manicures, play board games, nibble on fresh fruit and snacks while you wait for a table to come free. The queues get massive. Expect to take a number and see that you’re behind about a hundred other hungry tables of Chinese exchange students.
Once you’re in, you’ll find yourself a party to a feast of Sichuan flavours in various levels of spice. Some of them are blow-your-brains-out hot, and others like the clear chicken and mushroom broths are more about comfort than heat.
This isn’t the best hot pot in London, but it is a classic.
Charco Charco
This marriage of hot pot and yakiniku in Covent Garden is the project of one heck of a success story.
The man behind it all is Leo Jin. He came to the UK in the 90’s with just a few quid in his pocket and has gone on to be the UK’s largest importer of Asian foods. In fact, he now supplies 90% of London’s Chinese restaurants.
Leo must be keeping some of the best stuff for himself though because Charco Charco sells itself on having the freshest of high-quality ingredients.
The food is pretty special. You’ll have chances to dip into the fancier realms of dining with things like oysters topped with caviar, but really you’re here for good old meat in a pot. It won’t disappoint.
Tian Fu
If you’re looking for something a cut above Haidilao, Tian Fu is your go.
Headed up by Zhang XiaoZhong, the man once in charge of the kitchens at Soho’s excellent Sichuan restaurant Barshu, and coming from a prestigious career in Beijing and Shanghai, the food here is authentic to the bones.
Actually authenticity in Sichuanese usually means more than just bones. You’ll find all sorts of intestines, tripe, and other questionable ingredients on the menu here. It’s fine to just stick to the regular cuts – Zhang’s cooking will still delight – but if you want the real deal you’ll have to be dunking the offcuts into Tian Fu’s violently red broth.
In the fancier restaurants around London they refer to this as nose-to-tail dining. Here it’s just good food.
Kangnam Pocha
Getting a table at this bite-size Korean restaurant can be a struggle. Kangnam Pocha doesn’t take bookings and there’s usually a large contingent of people vying for space around one of their hotpot tables.
If you manage to battle your way to the front of the queue – a battle of patience, we don’t encourage any foul play in the line – dinner will be a selection of hotpots delicious enough to go through all the hassle of getting a table again and again.
Our favourite is the Gamja Tang, a spicy broth of braised pork ribs, filled out by selections of vegetables. Of course, you can’t forget a plate of KFC on the side.
Chilli Cool
This little-known spot in Bloomsbury is so drenched in natural light by day that it would make a great spot for a cafe. Instead Chilli Cool turns out authentic Chengdu dishes and hotpots.
You should be here for the Sichuan boboji, a style of hotpot where you order meat and veg on sticks that comes business-end-down in a fiery broth of oil and soup. The flavours often come with a healthy kick of Sichuan’s signature numbing spice, delivering a zing that leaves you lips literally humming.
If you’re looking for something to take the edge off, the traditional method would be a bowl of bingfen – a bowl of ice cold jelly drizzled in brown-sugar syrup.
Cocoro
Bloomsbury, Marylebone, Highgate
In the market for a bit of Japanese hotpot? The sukiyaki at Cocoro is exactly what you’d want from the dish, and an excellent example of all the high points of Japanese cooking.
The broth is delicate and balanced. Satisfying umami notes run throughout a clear broth that’s so smooth it’s almost silken. You won’t get any spice in this one, but nor will you get the levels of oil that are part and parcel of Chinese hotpots.
Instead you’ll find something that feels healthy, and with the gently cooked vegetable and fresh slices of meat, probably is quite healthy. They also all add up to a perfect winter warmer.
Happy Lamb
Another Chinese import, Happy Lamb comes straight from the heartlands of Inner-Mongolia. The broths are a far cry of the hot-numbing flavours of Sichuan, though still pack a punch if that’s what you’re after.
Just because it’s in the name doesn’t mean you have to stick to eating lamb, though you should probably make it a large part of what you order. Beautifully-marbled, near-paper-thin slices of the stuff are to be seen on every table, being slid into bubbling pots by the chopstick full.
No need to worry about the air miles. They get all their lamb from inside the UK.
Dragon Inn Club
Victoria
Another can’t-go-wrong option for traditional Chinese hotpot in London is Dragon Inn Club. From the outside this place looks like any old semi-high-end members club, but step inside and you’ll see it’s a different story.
The place is decked out to resemble the inns of eighth century China. You’ll most likely be chowing down on your hot pot under the eaves wood-cladded construction, that at best is transportative, and at worst seems something like a Chinese take on a tiki bar.
Where the Dragon Inn Club never falters though is in its hot pots. Scarlet soups of fiery disposition that make for one spice-inducted high-endorphin meal.
Naru
Holborn
Naru isn’t a hotpot restaurant by any stretch of the imagination. Most of the diners there will be putting away plates of Korean classics like kimchi pancakes, bibimbaps, and plates of sticky-sweet fried chicken.
You can find in their menu, if you know what you’re looking for, a portion of Korean army stew that fits the hotpot bill like a glove. The massive pot – definitely a sharer – will be brought out and whacked on top of a portable gas stove in a spectacle that often turns heads.
Let it cook off for about ten minutes, stir well, and dig in. You’ll be fishing up bits of spam and tteokbokki. Strands of sliced beef come bubbling up with segments of needle mushrooms, and a gentle heat runs throughout.
You can’t ask for better, but you’ll want a few bottles of soju to complete the night.
Practical Tips for Exploring the Best Hot Pot in London
- There are some major differences between the hot pots of the world. It’s good to know them before entering the steamy underbelly of the London hot pot scene.
- Your standard hot pot is going to be Chinese, probably from Sichuan. These are the fiery red broths that often pack enough spice to burn your lips clean off your face. Approach with caution. They also regularly hit with Sichuan numbing spice that pretty much makes your lips hum. Eating Chinese hot pot is an endorphin-rich, slap-in-the-mouth experience. If you like spice, you’ll love it. But you have been warned. It’s not for the faint of heart.
- Korean hot pots, often known as army pot stews because they feature things like spam that were brought to Korea by US soldiers, are less intense. Their base often comes from kimchi so if you like that, you’ll probably like the mild-spicy, sour notes of Korean hot pot.
- Japanese hot pot is a whole different kettle of fish. The broth is never usually spicy. Instead it’s clear and umami and often mysteriously rich. Sukiyaki, as it’s called, is often eaten as a single serving dish, rather than as a sharer in the Korean or Chinese way and therefore is usually overlooked by hot pot lovers. It’s a disastrous mistake.
