Bar Rakuda

You're on Quay Road, that stretch where Plymouth actually starts to feel like somewhere, and you descend into Bar Rakuda feeling like you've found something you weren't meant to stumble upon. It's intimate without being cramped—exposed brick, moody lighting, the kind of place where the bartender knows what they're doing with a bottle. The menu reads like someone's actually thought about Japanese spirits and the cocktails that match them, rather than just throwing things together. Order the kushikatsu skewers if you're hungry; they're proper, fried-to-order, and arrive golden. This isn't fancy for fancy's sake—it's just competent, unpretentious, and the sort of spot Plymouthians keep coming back to because it does one thing well.