Zaatar

You're walking up Cotham Hill in Redland and you catch the smell of charred bread and za'atar—suddenly you're not in Bristol anymore. Zaatar does Levantine food properly, the kind that makes you understand why people queue out the door on Friday nights. It's unpretentious but clever; the sort of place where they've clearly thought about every plate that goes out. The room itself is warm without trying too hard, and the crowd's the best kind of mixed—locals who've made it their spot, families, dates, groups of mates all rubbing shoulders.