Rayuela in Ealing feels like the sort of restaurant you almost don’t expect to exist outside central London—somewhere that combines genuine warmth, culinary ambition, and a sense of ease so many modern dining rooms try (and fail) to capture. My dining companion and I arrived on a Friday evening to find the space gently buzzing, with the soft light catching on glasses of Rioja and polished wooden tables. You could sense at once that everyone in the room was glad to be there.
The name, Rayuela, means “hopscotch,” and the restaurant leans into that playful concept. The menu is designed for you to skip from one dish to another—small plates, tapas, charcoal-grilled mains—rather than follow a rigid starter-main-dessert formula. It’s an idea that feels true to how people actually want to eat now. The restaurant is the vision of Miguel Morales, formerly of Cambio de Tercio, and his wife Anastasiia. Together, they’ve built a place that balances the spirit of Spanish family meals with the polish of fine dining. Head Chef Andrés Sanabria Quevedo, originally from Colombia, brings a subtle Latin American accent to the food—just enough to make familiar dishes feel intriguing again.
We started with Croquetas del Día, which were the first clue we were in good hands. Two golden croquettes arrived hot enough to burn fingers, their crisp panko crust hiding a meltingly smooth béchamel with the filling of the day. Simple, but perfect. Alongside, we ordered the Calamares Fritos, tender rings of squid encased in delicate batter that cracked in the mouth without a trace of grease. A squeeze of lime and a dab of their house alioli made them even better. Patatas Bravas joined the table too—rustic, crunchy cubes with just enough heat in the brava sauce to cut through the richness.
Then came the Tropical Red Prawns Salad, which turned out to be one of the evening’s highlights. Plump prawns were nestled among cubes of ripe mango, creamy avocado, papaya, and slivers of passion fruit, all balanced with a bright dressing. It was colourful and refreshing—a dish that tasted of summer, no matter the season. My dining companion, usually a sceptic about fruit in savoury dishes, kept going back for more.
When the mains arrived from the charcoal grill, the scent alone was enough to make us pause mid-conversation. El Pulpo, a whole tentacle of octopus, looked dramatic in its blackened sear. The flesh was yielding and smoky, complemented by rocoto mojo—a Peruvian-inspired pepper sauce—and roasted peppers. It’s the kind of plate that demands you pay attention: each bite revealing sweetness, heat, and the deep flavour only a proper grill can provide.
But nothing topped the Pluma Ibérica. This prized cut of acorn-fed Iberian pork was sliced pink and juicy, draped in a guava glaze that sounded unlikely but worked perfectly, its gentle sweetness enhancing the pork’s rich, nutty character. We agreed it was one of the most memorable dishes we’d eaten all year, the kind of thing you talk about on the way home and still think about the next morning.
Between courses, we sipped drinks—a Grapefruit & Hibiscus spritz for me, tart and bright with just enough bitterness to feel grown-up, and a glass of Albariño for my companion. The wine list is entirely Spanish and thoughtfully selected, with sherries by the glass and some ambitious bottles for those in the mood to splurge. If you prefer, the team will happily steer you through the options without a trace of snobbery.
Service at Rayuela is a model of how hospitality should feel: present but unobtrusive, genuinely warm without tipping into overfamiliarity. Our server timed each course just right, checking in discreetly, and Miguel himself drifted through the room, stopping to carve Jamón Ibérico tableside and greet guests. You can tell this is a family-run restaurant in the best sense—there’s a personal investment in making sure you leave happy.
By the time we reached dessert—a shared Basque cheesecake with a glossy, crackled top and a silky, almost custardy interior—we were already planning when we could come back. It wasn’t just the food, though the cooking is as precise and confident as anything you’ll find in the West End. It was the sense that here, in this unassuming corner of Ealing, they’ve created a restaurant that feels special without trying too hard to announce it.
It’s no surprise Rayuela has picked up accolades so quickly. Two AA Rosettes have already been awarded, and some reviewers have suggested it could be a contender for a Michelin star in time. Giles Coren called it “genius” and urged readers to book while they still could. And after our meal, I understood exactly why. It has that rare combination of ambition and heart.
Rayuela also manages to stand apart from its Spanish peers in London. While Barrafina and Sabor might get more press, here you find a quieter confidence and a willingness to innovate—like pairing Iberian pork with guava or layering prawns with tropical fruit. The result feels both authentic and refreshingly personal, as if you’ve been invited to someone’s home rather than a branded concept.
When we finally stepped back out into the night, Ealing felt like a different place than when we’d arrived—somehow elevated by this unexpected pocket of Spanish warmth. Rayuela is the kind of restaurant you want to tell everyone about, but also secretly hope remains a little under the radar, so you can always get a table. If you love Spanish food, or just love restaurants that care deeply about what they do, it’s worth the journey.
Quick Facts
📍 Dickens Yard, London W5
🍽 Small Plates £6–£18 | Mains £22–£28
🥂 Cocktails & Mocktails £9–£14.50
⭐ Two AA Rosettes, praised by major critics
💳 13.5% discretionary service charge
