Best Asian Food in London: Korean, Japanese, Thai & Vietnamese
The smell hits you first on Brick Lane—not the cloying sweetness of mass-produced curry sauce, but something sharper and more honest. It’s charred meat, fermented peppers, and sesame oil colliding in the humid air outside a Korean restaurant at 11 PM on a Friday. This is where London’s Asian food scene actually lives, far from the Instagram-bait places in Soho that serve you overpriced pad thai that tastes like sadness. After eating my way through Bangkok’s Chinatown, Seoul’s Myeongdong, and Hanoi’s Old Quarter, I can tell you London does something different—it’s not trying to replicate Asia. It’s creating something messier, hungrier, and more interesting.
Korean Food in Tottenham: Where the Real Action Is
Forget New Malden’s Korean suburb—Tottenham High Road is where London’s Korean community actually eats. Walk past the neon signs and you’ll find restaurants packed with Korean families on Sunday afternoons, not tourists. Spots like Koba and Oasis serve jjigae (stews) that simmer for hours, with gochujang bases that taste nothing like the watered-down versions you’ll find elsewhere. Order the budae jjigae—it’s technically a fusion dish born in 1950s military camps, but the one here, loaded with spam, instant noodles, and proper kimchi, tastes like it was made with purpose. The kimchi itself matters. Most places buy it pre-made; the better spots ferment their own with whole garlic cloves and Korean red pepper flakes that you can actually taste individually. The banchan (side dishes) arrive in a parade—at least eight small plates of pickled vegetables, seasoned spinach, and salted fish. This is the meal’s skeleton, not decoration.
Japanese Precision in Fitzrovia and Shoreditch
Japanese food in London splits into two camps: the expensive minimalism of Mayfair’s omakase bars, and the honest ramen shops where you sit elbow-to-elbow with someone’s grandmother. Stick with the latter. Tonkotsu in Shoreditch has been doing the same pork bone broth for over a decade—they simmer pig skulls and leg bones for 18 hours, which is why the broth tastes like it has weight and history. The noodles are chewy, the chashu pork actually melts, and they don’t pretend it’s anything fancier than what it is. In Fitzrovia, Koya offers a different angle: udon noodles served hot or cold, with broth made from kombu and bonito flakes that actually taste like the ocean. The kakigori (shaved ice) with condensed milk and fruit syrup is simple enough that you’d miss it if you weren’t looking. That simplicity is the point. Japanese cooking isn’t about complexity—it’s about respecting your ingredients enough to not bury them.
Thai and Vietnamese: Chinatown and Bethnal Green
Chinatown’s Thai restaurants are tourist traps, but venture into the backstreets and you’ll find places like Thai Square where the som tam is pounded fresh to order—the mortar and pestle action matters because it bruises the papaya differently than a knife ever could. The heat level here isn’t negotiable; they ask how much you can handle and they mean it. For Vietnamese, Bethnal Green’s Pho Hoa serves broth that’s been simmering since 5 AM, with charred ginger and onion adding a burnt sweetness that cuts through the richness. The brisket is tender enough to cut with the edge of a spoon. Skip the spring rolls and order the bánh mì from the counter—it’s where the kitchen’s soul actually lives. The pickled daikon and carrot should have a sharp vinegar bite; the pâté should be creamy; the chili should make your eyes water.
London’s best Asian food isn’t in guidebooks because it doesn’t need to be. It’s in neighborhoods where people actually live, in restaurants that are too busy feeding their communities to care about your Instagram post. Go hungry, arrive without expectations, and order what the table next to you is eating.
Sarah Kim is WokFeed's Korean food correspondent. A Seoul native who grew up eating in pojangmacha tents and KBBQ restaurants, she now writes about the global spread of Korean food culture. Her coverage spans traditional ganjang gejang to viral K-food trends on TikTok.
