As I write this, another single day of vague sunshine has slowly declined into another grey Monday, and it’s increasingly looking like we’re in line for another delightful British summer. But on the off chance that we do get some balmy days, the last thing you want is to be stuck inside when eating out. I’ve found Oxford to be fairly lacking in restaurants with nice outside areas (I blame the colleges and their gorgeous quads, sucking up all the nice green enclosed spaces!), but here are a few of my top choices:
I’m a sucker for a good roof terrace, and at the time of writing the only one in Oxford belongs to the Ashmolean Dining Rooms. Admittedly, the views are mainly into the bedrooms of the Randolph, rather than of dreaming spires, but it’s better than nothing. Most of the time the Dining Rooms are only a lunchtime venue, but on Fridays and Saturdays you can sip cocktails and then watch the sun set as you eat. After a recent menu nadir, angled a little too closely at the Museum’s average elderly visitor, they seem to have had a refresh and are now offering a pleasant Mediterranean-inspired menu.
Quod is light, airy, and summery even in the depths of winter, and with their front windows open the main restaurant can feel like eating outside. But, hidden away at the rear, they have a fabulous little suntrap terrace, west-facing to catch dinnertime sunrays. It’s never the most reliable venue for food, but the drinks are excellent, the atmosphere is elegant, and service is some of the most charming I’ve had. Stick to the bistro classics (crab mayonnaise; steak; fish cakes) and you should be fine.
I wouldn’t normally recommend one Mogford venue, but I’m about to recommend a second within a single article, because I cannot talk about outside dining without mentioning the delicious, wisteria-smothered front terrace of the Old Parsonage. The pain of the frankly extortionate prices (£17 for a chicken and bacon pie?) is nearly entirely ameliorated by the quiet monastic hush, the scent of the flowers, and the fawning waitresses. They’re also quite happy to let you sit there with just a pot of tea, should the food be properly beyond your budget.
A paved area does not a pub garden make. But the one at the Jericho Tavern it is large, and sunny, and therefore fits in nicely here. Regulars of the Royal Oak or the Cape of Good Hope will recognise the menu, although it is usually better executed here than at its sister pubs, and the drinks tend to be a quid cheaper too. Probably one of the best for Friday after-work summertime drinks that might turn into dinner/more drinks/3 a.m. taxis home.
On Osney Island, the calm and the river can make it feel like you’re in the countryside, so the small concreted back garden of The Punter seems a little more romantic and outdoorsy than it might do elsewhere. The menu features the usual pub classics, but I’m keener on the more adventurous dishes: at the moment they’re advertising an aubergine soup, merguez sausages, and vine-leaf-wrapped sea bass. Not all on one plate, obviously. It’s really not that far from the town centre, but always seems to be quiet, so you’re basically guaranteed a seat in the sun.
The canteen-style dining offered by Vaults & Garden is not always the most tempting, particularly given its echoing interior and tiny little tables in regimented rows. But in summer, the “garden” element comes into its own, enabling you to sit just next to Radcliffe Square whilst you lunch, admiring the Camera and taking the piss out of tourists. Steer clear of the congealed pre-cooked rarebits and go for their nourishing health-food mains: the goat’s cheese and lentil gratin is a particular favourite.
Portabello has only a slim terrace to offer as outside dining, but on the thoroughfare of South Parade, it can sometimes seem to punch far above its size, providing a full view over the comings and goings at the other venues on the road. The mass of heaters also ensures that the season and time for eating here is significantly longer than at other places: still outside at 10 a.m. in April? No problem! The menu is starting to age, with a few too many 1990s influences hanging about, but for meat-based classics it’s still reliable.
It barely has an outside seating area (I’m not convinced by a couple of rickety chairs in the middle of a road), but with its massive windows open, Kazbar feels remarkably like sitting in a souk in Marrakech. Except with added alcohol! Most of the customers (usually including me) are focussed on those drinks, and the cocktail and wine lists should certainly be thoroughly explored, but the food is also excellent: Spanish tapas with the occasional North African excursion, often featuring ingredients which I haven’t tried. One of the best for making you feel as if it’s actually summertime.
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