What makes a neighbourhood restaurant? The phrase itself is evocative, bringing to mind the types of local trattorias or ocakbaşları or tavernas that punters return to regularly. The definition might vary from person to person, but surely a neighbourhood restaurant is defined by some combination of its longevity in the community, an accessible feel and affordable prices. Over the past six months, though, I have seen the “neighbourhood restaurant” label deployed constantly in PR emails previewing a very different sort of establishment. The aim, I imagine, is to evoke a sense of cosiness and community – but there’s something off about it. These self-proclaimed neighbourhood restaurants usually feel something like this: the walls are white, wines are “low-intervention” (meaning natural), and the branding is jaunty and Instagram-scroll friendly. “Seasonal ingredients” and “modern European” dishes abound. You might expect a neighbourhood restaurant by definition to respond to the specific needs of its neighbourhood, but a lot of these places actually tend to be pretty identikit, informed above all else by a more ambient, social media-aware aesthetic. …