John Walsh reviews

Saturday, January 28, 2012 - The mains on offer didn't endear themselves. Luckily, an evening special was announced - duck leg with chorizo and chickpea stew. Could there be a more butch, more comfort-foodie dish? I had reservations about combining chorizo sausage with duck, but it worked out fine, the tiny cubes of Hispanic spice nuzzling against the steaming dark slithery morsels of Anatidae. The chickpeas, though, were a step too far...Nonetheless, we left The Crooked Well feeling well-disposed to the chefs who seemed to know how to warm the cockles of the January punter.

Saturday, January 14, 2012 - The Delaunay instantly zooms to the top of my list of Restaurants to Take Special Friends For a Big Treat. It's lovely just to hang out there. The waiting staff are friendly and attentive. The prices aren't astronomical. You can't help feel it's your kinda place. It offers very up-market comfort food rather than chef-tastic brilliance, and that's fine with me. I'll be returning again and again (but next time, maybe I won't start with a hot dog).

Saturday, December 10, 2011 - Main courses brought more novelty tastes. Angie's roasted hake ('Delicious, fresh and meaty') was given a nice counterpoint of crunchy chickpeas, sexed up by Romesco, the Spanish sauce that combines tomato with hazelnuts crushed together with pimento peppers. It was delicious. My roast partridge was served whole with a kilo of choucroute (or sauerkraut) and a fat Montbeliard sausage the size of a baby's arm...We left Soif feeling stuffed, but impressed by the gutsy intensity of the chef's cooking.

Saturday, November 12, 2011 - I can describe the main courses in a few words. Clementine's rib-eye steak, ordered rare, was served medium and strangely tasteless. My veal T-bone steak was 35 per cent fat and its extremities were chewy cartilage: not nice at all. Angie's Dover sole was fresh, plainly-cooked and nicely presented, the accompanying tartare sauce perfect. Sophie's halibut was well executed and served, 'but it's very ordinary,' she said...I wanted to like The Hansom Cab but on its present showing the food isn't good enough, and the cooking not complex or subtle enough, to justify the absurd prices. In short, it's a restaurant that's too flipping pleased with itself.

Saturday, October 29, 2011 - My Grey Leg Partridge was served whole, and was a terrific sight. Around it, like respectful hierophants, were arrayed bread sauce, gravy (they don't say 'jus' at Rules), redcurrant jelly, celeriac gratin, purple sprouting broccoli, parsnip and bacon crisps. Such an orchestra of tastes. In the middle, the partridge yielded up its chickeny-ducky flesh only after a struggle, but the combination of tastes was astounding...You end a meal in Rules beaming at your great good fortune in being alive, having all five senses and being able to eat God's English bounty, expertly cooked and served as it might have been for Graham Greene or Ava Gardner, only probably much better.

Saturday, September 03, 2011 - Her main-course navarin of lamb was another long-cooking classic. Instead of the usual lamb neck, the head chef Matt Christmas dished up tranches of rump and shoulder. The rump was a delicate, virginal, lambkin's-ear pink, sublimely textured, while the shoulder was a tougher, sterner, altogether more grown-up cut; it had clearly been braised for several years in white wine, chicken stock, and rosemary, then finished off with some kind of roux. The pair offered a brilliant contrast, as if you were eating both mother and daughter in the same dish. My risotto nero with sea bass was an amazing sight - the beautiful red-orange fish pertly arrayed on a miniature island of blackened rice, it resembled a fascinator at Ascot.

Saturday, August 06, 2011 - Visiting the bathroom, I got a bit lost and found myself in the back corridors of the Montcalm Hotel. Suddenly, everything was plush, carpeted, hushed and corporate. It occurred to me that the food at Chiswell Street was like that, too. It's perfectly OK as a fuelling stop for City folk, to break up their knackering day at the financial coalface, but the food isn't cooked with much interest or passion. Like the Grub Street hackers of old, there's a faint suggestion that they're just going through the motions.

Saturday, July 09, 2011 - Medlar is easy to admire for competence in every department - meat cooking, sauces, flavour combinations, pudding techniques - but a little hard to love. There's something constrained and buttoned-up, dainty and polite about its dishes, where you'd like an occasional suggestion of blood and guts, gore and derring-do. Chelsea-ites are lucky to have it on their doorstep. But they may find themselves wishing for more a flavour of the Football Club than the Flower Show.

Saturday, June 25, 2011 - Whitebait were for once not deep-fried, just fried with a spicy tomato sauce – substantial and delicious (but don't eat the tails or they'll stick in your throat, as one did in mine for five minutes). Crayfish in creamed flageolet beans were a treat, the creamed beans like an Italianate hummus. Three crostini of pulled pork with raw red onion, chilli and fruit mustard were heftily satisfying open sandwiches. Spiced chicken in garlic with black olives, tomato and wine had a nice Provencal punch...Do try the Berni brothers' generous-hearted, imaginative re-thinking of Italian food if you get a chance.

Saturday, May 28, 2011 - My date's lobster salad with mango, avocado and chorizo may sound like simple food combining but it's not. The ingredients all embraced each other in an orange-hued, subtly-spiced group hug. My pan-seared scallops offered the usual challenge of finding some gutsy accompaniment to their plump and juicy innocence: Gill's solution was a fabulously tasty rectangle of ham hock that had been boiled for hours, shredded, pressed overnight with capers, gherkins, parsley and tarragon, rolled in breadcrumbs and lightly fried. All this labour paid off - it ran rings of savoury gorgeousness around the scallops.

Saturday, May 07, 2011 - Irish ox cheek was dark as a rainy Connemara bog; inside it was sexy purple. It steamed with dense and unctuous savouriness. A loose-textured roundel of tongue was tender to the point of disintegration. Both cheek and tongue reeked of carnivorous intimacy; it was like snogging an expiring water buffalo. Harmony carrots and horseradish mash contributed extra sweetness and bite. Max's roasted Scottish halibut, exalted by a yummy mussel sauce, twined itself around asparagus, and battled with a side-dish of Catalan paella. These were vivid and extravagant flavours I'd travel miles to experience.

Saturday, April 23, 2011 - My date was brought a huge platter of San Daniele ham and salami, artfully folded and, she observed, 'miraculously thin, like this girl at the next table'. My 'porchetta-style' rabbit with shallots was four oval slices of bunny, stuffed with parsley, breadcrumbs and jus de lapin camouflaged with shredded lettuce and faintly dressed with a sauce that involved parmesan, orange, lemon and spinach. It came and went without leaving much impression...As we left, feeling distinctly underwhelmed, the owner was being gallant to the babes at the next table, and the joint was loud with kissing. Do try Ilia for its convivial atmosphere - but you may feel you're dining in a club of which you're not really a member.

Saturday, April 09, 2011 - The menu promised monkfish tail wrapped in air-dried ham with spinach and gremolata, plus a crayfish risotto. They'd got the emphasis wrong. This was a plate of perfectly acceptable crayfish risotto, with an apologetically shrunk, ham-wrapped monkfish like an afterthought. The ham was lovely, but the monkfish - the most solid and meaty of white fish - decidedly mushy. Bennett's fish pie was 50/50 fish and potato, which I guess is about right for fish pie, and tasted fine...Until the kitchen clarifies its USP, refines its menu and stops adding otiose flavours to simple dishes, it'll be an uphill struggle.

Saturday, March 05, 2011 - The food seemed an afterthought to the decor. Cauliflower soup, pumpkin and Stilton souffle, foie gras terrine - these are not starters to inspire great art...The RA restaurant looks lovely, the wine list is appealing and well-priced, and our Lithuanian waitress Karolina was completely charming. The cooking, though, has a pinched, defeatist, uncertain quality about it. The menu needs a re-think, the chef needs a trip to some decent meat and poultry suppliers, and Mr Peyton should get some blood and guts into the kitchen.

Saturday, February 19, 2011 - The decor is faux-rustic, possibly ordered from the Baileys mail-order catalogue. The menu is unadventurous French cuisine...The main courses arrived with dizzying speed. Madeleine was enthusing about its pan-fried, lightly seared, charcoaled fishiness, how well it balanced the fennel, all of it soothed by a green pea sauce. My free-range pork chop was delicious, bonding with the soft chunks of lightly-cooked apple like Julie Andrews encountering the junior von Trapps. In spite of my earlier sneers about the decor and clientele, Aubaine was working out well.

Saturday, January 22, 2011 - Reasoning that, in a restaurant whose logo is a bottle-shaped pig, I should try a pig dish, I chose the Finocchiona. Imagine a large, semi-soft, porky saucisse whose contents you spoon into your mouth. It was fine at first; then I felt I was eating a large helping of sausagemeat dotted with lardons, and couldn't continue...The wedges of charcuterie, the helpings-for-two that you end up eating solo, the procession of raw-meat-after-raw-meat, the blizzard of pulses, beans, lentils (and sprouts) guaranteed to make you fart like a wizard, the strange incoherence of the menu - it made for an uncomfortable eating experience.

Saturday, December 18, 2010 - My starter of crispy pig cheeks was a classic case of over-production. The pig's head had been roasted until the flesh fell off, the cheeks had been boned, mixed with celery and carrots, rolled up, sliced, then cooked until the top was blackened. Its porkiness was muted rather than enhanced by all this activity. Lisa's baby back ribs, though, were excellent...The war-zone aspect of Barbecoa is hard to love, but when it gets it right (as with the steak) you can forgive the slapdash approach to anything which isn't carnivore-related. Time will tell, but I'm not convinced this is a place to which Oliver's army will flock.

Saturday, November 20, 2010 - My cannelloni de daube de taureau resembled two spring rolls covered in Branston Pickle, but was delicious. The beef had been braised until caramelised, and it melted into the shallots-and-red-wine-with-bone-marrow sauce...There was nothing ambiguous about the aioli de cabillaud, or poached line-caught cod. I've seldom seen a fish so perkily solid, so pristinely white. It had been steamed rather than poached, I suspect, as had been the perfect lumps of vegetable that sat in a tiny puddle of broth, while the aioli puree (potato, garlic and olive oil) was a beautifully subtle partner. A side dish of black olive mashed potato was tasty as hell.

Saturday, November 06, 2010 - The mains were electrifying. Angie's roast fillet of cod with celeriac and anchovy sauce drew cries of rapture. 'It's rare to find a piece of cod so fresh and delicious you could eat it by itself, but the celeriac goes with it so beautifully, it's overwhelming.'...My veal chop, slow-roasted for ages with bay leaves and juniper berries, was wondrous, a big butch steak on a bone the size of a handlebar. But the highlight of my dish was the fennel - sliced in half and slow-braised until it was sweet and melting.

Saturday, October 16, 2010 - I chose the Russian herring with boiled potatoes because it had the virtue of bluntness. It was terrific: pink-and-grey, nicely salted, beautifully textured, both meaty and fishy at the same time. The accompanying potatoes were four halves of peeled, boiled spud, arrayed on the plate without sophistication. It looked like lunch for a long-stay dissident in the gulag. But it tasted fine...Perhaps Russo-Uzbek-Kazakhstani cuisine is an acquired taste. Perhaps there's a reason why no one in the kitchen wants to flavour dishes with anything but chilli sauce or herbs-and-yoghurt.

Saturday, October 02, 2010 - How does one describe the food at Harvey Nicks? Very pretty, very svelte and very anxious not to appal or upset gentle palates with rough textures or butch flavours...My smoked-salmon starter was marinated in elderflower and served with fennel and apple creme fraiche. A beautiful sight but I longed for a wedge of lemon to bring some excitement into its life. Max's roast scallops with braised chicken wings promised a hearty wallop of flavour; the tiny pieces of boneless chicken were delicious, and the scallops, barely touched by an oven, were given a tiny crunch by the molecules of hazelnut in the jus.

Saturday, September 11, 2010 - Madeleine declared herself full up and I knew I was sunk. The pigeon saltimbocca was a lovely variant on the classic veal dish, the flavour of game far from overwhelmed by the Parma ham wrap. But I couldn't do justice to the osso buco. Tender, unctuous and melting, it was served on a lovely saffron risotto which would have satisfied a platoon of trenchermen. As I tried to find an abdominal corner for the scrumptious pannacotta with blackberries and biscotti, and basked in Polpetto's lovely informality at 3pm, I wondered if I'd ever complained before about a restaurant serving too much food.

Saturday, August 28, 2010 - We left the All Star Lanes determined to return. Perhaps next time, we'll head for the one in Brick Lane. It's a very invigorating experience - what with the juleps, the rumble and crash of the bowling alley, the milkshakes (did I mention the Oh Sweet Jeez!, with peanut butter, banana, chocolate and caramel? It's like a liquefied Dime Bar) and the excellent chips, you can ignore the patchiness of the food. But a bit more quality control in the kitchen would lift this four-star night out into something even better.

Saturday, July 31, 2010 - The food was good but a little short on dressing. As though to make up for it - as though the chef had overheard us (and the irascible Marco Pierre White, who used to co-own the place, still acts as consultant here) - all the main courses arrived fairly drenched in sauce, or jus or gravy. Four plates glistened with identical shiny brown puddles...There's something disappointing about the Belvedere at present. It's one of the most beautiful restaurant interiors in London, but it doesn't feel friendly or romantic.

Saturday, July 17, 2010 - The menu is 'classic' French-Mediterranean, and you tick off the predictable dishes with a yawn. The food, though, was terrific. Madeleine's crab tian was a little work of art, a roundel of crab and avocado sitting on a spirograph of pink radish slices, surmounted by a quail's egg. The crab tasted good, although I'd question the addition of a wodge of cream cheese. My Scottish scallops were, unusually, steamed in a wine mariniere rather than seared in a pan, and given a wallop of basil pesto. How odd to find, amid such sophistication, an awful lot of roughly-diced carrots that added nothing but crunch.

Saturday, June 19, 2010 - The main courses brought another surprise, in the shape of a Le Creuset saucepan, in which Angie's Cornish prawns were served. The prawns therein were perfectly well cooked but covered in a too-sweet, tomatoey sauce. Around them, sliced courgettes were a welcome counterpoint; but the ricotta tortelloni most emphatically was not. My honey-glazed roast duck couldn't be faulted, however. The glistening duck leg split open to reveal a juicily pink interior; its honey glaze wasn't too sweet, while baby artichokes and a figgy sauce were just fine. side order of potato puree was gorgeously butter-and-creamed.

Saturday, June 05, 2010 - Pan-fried wild halibut was sweet and moist, and the accompanying shredded celeriac danced along with tiny St George mushrooms; the only bum note was a superfluity of lobster foam. (Hasn't foam had its day now? Can we please go back to sauce?) Poached and roasted quail wrapped round melting-away foie gras was a rich choice, lifted by braised red cabbage...Chapter One is my top gastronomic find of the year so far. Hats off to Mr McLeish and his talented team. And when I tell you there's currently a Monday-to-Saturday two-course lunch promotion for 14.50 - what are you waiting for?

Saturday, May 29, 2010 - The place itself isn't immediately appealing: it's subterranean, with a ceiling so low as to attract only the most gifted limbo dancers. The tables are cheap wood veneer, unburdened by white cloths. The decor is predominantly beige and brown...I tried the 'beer braised feather blade', an old-fashioned beef carbonnade, but with a difference. Instead of lumps of stewing steak, it offered a whole slab of feather-blade that was tender enough to eat with a plastic fork: gooey, fibrous, aching with more flavour than any steak of living memory, it was sensational. (M Boulud told me later it had been cooked sous-vide for 72 hours straight.)

Saturday, May 08, 2010 - Behind us is the garden's handsome tropical-plant greenhouse. Before us is a long, trimmed lawn. In the distance the Thames sulkily twinkles. This is a lovely, peaceful setting for lunch...The five main courses were slightly predictable but welcome none the less: confit of duck with celeriac mash; salmon en croute with stem ginger; seabass; steak; and goat's cheese tart. My steak was served in the Tuscan tagliata fashion, lightly charred and sliced sideways, with a Portobello mushroom and a touch of oil. It was delicious. Even its tepidness seemed right for an al fresco lunch.

Saturday, April 24, 2010 - As an exercise in food preparation, display and restaurateurship, the Golden Day is frankly insulting, judging by my experience last week. Whatever may be dished up in the poorer districts of Xiangxi, it's a bloody cheek to chop up what seem like the cheapest cuts of chicken, duck and pig, cook them without subtlety or style, serve them with indifference to your diners and charge a fortune (my duck was 15.80, the cabbage side-dish 7.80) because you're in the middle of Shaftesbury Avenue.

Saturday, April 10, 2010 - It's a warm and welcoming interior, as embracing as a favourite pub. There's nothing pubby about the food, though. Presiding over the kitchen is young Gemma Tuley, who trained as a chef under Gordon Ramsay at Claridges Hotel and in Paris...A main course of stone bass was a triumph, the fish so toastily charred, fresh and delicious, the polenta so unexpectedly creamy, the beetroot and salady leaves so full of aromas of spring. My braised pork belly was a revelation...It was a wonderful lunch. For all its naive rustic charm, the Manson has a star of real urban sophistication in its midst.

Saturday, March 13, 2010 - The menu strives for simplicity too: it's an 'all-day' affair, divided into Snacks, Small Plates and Big Plates, Sides and Puddings, the object being to mix'n'match, to graze, to chillax...my guests agreed: it's a good restaurant, the decor cool and minimalist, the waiters attentive and the food mostly delicious. But there's an air of confusion about the menu and some of the dishes: small plates that are bigger than tapas, big plates that aren't real main courses, way too much sweet potato.

Saturday, February 27, 2010 - My thinly sliced smoked eel with grilled mackerel, leek hearts and sweet mustard didn't reek of Gallic endeavour either. It was laid out in a rectangle of orange, white and brown, as pretty as an English watercolour, the eel shaved so wafer-thin it melted on my fork, the tiny bits of fish beautifully grilled. It was, in fact, so ethereal, it hardly counted as food at all...What they've brought to my professional backyard is a little too pricey and plain to be a neighbourhood drop-in site. But the food and the welcome make it a must-consider for anyone in Kensington with something to celebrate.

Saturday, October 31, 2009 - The food is ridiculous. In the bar, before entering the darkness, you choose either the red menu (meat), the blue (fish), the green (veggie) or the white (surprise!). The result is something between a tease and a torture. The food is served tepid - but, perversely, it isn't finger food. Picking up slithery, gloopy ravioli and dabbling your fingers in tepid mushroom sauce is no fun. Nor is the contemptuous way the 'cooks' throw stuff randomly on the plate.

Saturday, October 17, 2009 - The menu is very Anglo-Australian. It ripples with convict muscularity and rude authenticity. My starter of frogs' legs and chicken shanks was a chorus line of limbs kicking across the plate in a mushroom cream sauce. They looked anaemic, as if poached rather than roasted, but tasted fine...My date's roast chicken broth with pelmeni (pasta parcels of chicken and garlic) was nicely seasoned and stiff with spring onions, the pasta creamily tender with plenty of crunch from bits of fennel and onion.

Saturday, September 19, 2009 - The front room is laid out like a wine shop with a posh bar. There's an array of bottles inside glass cabinets from which punters occasionally fill up their glasses...My pan-fried prawns with spicy chorizo and broad beans was a melange of bits: the prawns were hot and juicy, the chorizo slices a touch over-fried and tepid and the beans boringly unseasoned. My friend's grilled calamari with rocket and walnuts looked excitingly stark and monochrome but also disappointed: some of the squid roundels were burnt at the edges, the dressing wasn't strong enough...The wine, however, made up for it.

Saturday, August 22, 2009 - The house hummus was fresh and garlicky, the baba ganoush aubergine dip lumpy and not noticeably smoky, the grilled sardines with chermoula spices came and went without leaving a memory. From the charcoal grill, the Moroccan lamb fillet with cumin was an OK shish of tender pink lamb chunks, lightly charred and served on basmati rice...It wasn't a meal to dwell over, except for one thing: the service. They were all charming and enthusiastic beyond the call of duty.

Saturday, July 04, 2009 - Il Baretto is in the heart of Marylebone restaurant-land. The upstairs bar is tiny and cute. Downstairs, the welcome from the staff is pure theatre, as the maitre d' and waiters vie with each other to welcome and seat you...It's actually an old-fashioned trattoria, serving OK-but-dull food, but gesticulating wildly that it's something far more special. Keeping It Simple is all very well. Sometimes, though, it comes across as Not Trying Hard Enough.

Saturday, June 20, 2009 - The dinner menu is laughably small, reminding you that the Mess's main function is a cafe/bar for breakfast and lunchtime snacks. Its main courses hum with predictability though its daily specials show a little more life...Madeleine's prawn cocktail was served in a sundae glass: juicy prawns and 'lepping-fresh' crayfish in 'bloody mary' creme fraiche, so cold and fresh tasting, it gave us goosepimples. It was hard to detect much vodka or Worcestershire sauce in the dressing, but it was delicious. My English asparagus salad with organic egg was a real taste of summer.

Saturday, June 06, 2009 - The plat du jour was a spectacular plateful of scallops, perfectly cooked with an entourage of capers and slices of raw fennel with croutons. The combination was magnificent and the buttery juices (with a faint lemony tang) lingered on the tastebuds like a dream…The enterprising Bjorn and his team offer much more careful cooking and inventive flavouring than the word bistro suggests; they also charge a lot more than bistro prices. But if they can sort out this semantic minefield, I suspect they'll be wowing the burghers of Smithfield for a long time to come.

Saturday, May 09, 2009 - Remarkably for a gallery restaurant, there's no art on the walls. As we discovered, they keep it for the dishes. The menu is as small as the room (four starters and four mains) and features lots of seasonal, hedgerow-foraging stuff: dandelion leaves, wild garlic, herbs – hardly surprising, when the head chef is Maria Elia… The Gallery Dining Room is absurdly small, but it's got a big heart for both flavour and invention. I recommend you go quickly, while they're offering a two-course set lunch for only £15.

Saturday, April 25, 2009 - Ba Shan sets out to be something different from the predictable Gerrard Street fare of wind-dried duck, chow mein and dim sum… They explain that they're dealing in xiao chi or "small eats", supposedly roadside snacks sold by street vendors. To go with this titbit cuisine, the restaurant (in Romilly Street) emphasises dinkiness, doll's-house cuteness.

Saturday, February 14, 2009 - The dining area is sensational: a cavernous room, designed with terrific flair, dominated by two chandeliers made from chain links and metal offcuts from naval ships. The walls are lined with white tiles and at the end a 15-foot-wide mirror is split into 36 rectangles like mullioned windows…Word has clearly spread since it opened in November. You can tell when local punters are willing a new place to succeed: there's a buzz of conviviality that says people are anxious to claim it as their own.

Saturday, January 31, 2009 - Sushinho, the first such fusion joint in England, looks dark, stark and exclusive from the outside but, once inside, you're enveloped in warmth and welcome…The menu is confusing, grouping the starters, soups, salads and tempura in the top left and consigning the sushi and sashimi delicacies to the bottom right. Two sections are confusingly named "sushinho especials" and "sushinho sushi especials" and there's something gratingly precious about the way the side-order vegetables are called "accompanhamentos" – like someone affecting a bogus Mexican accent.

Saturday, January 03, 2009 - The dining-room is dominated by a huge ceiling light in two concentric bands, and is much more homely, with wooden tables and terrazzo flooring…The menu is like a gazetteer of Italian local cooking: beside each dish, you're told the region it comes from. You learn that the shaved radish, celeriac and pecorino salad is from Umbria, while fennel-scented pork salami on fried bread with ham and cheese, is from Bologna.

Saturday, November 22, 2008 - The Mansion is a fantastic sight on the road from Dulwich to Crystal Palace. It's a great bulky lump of Victorian architecture, as solid as a fortress, and dominates the landscape. Once it was merely a boozer called The Paxton but, since it was bought by Ben Sowton (the guy responsible for the terrifically groovy White House in Clapham), it's been transformed. The ground floor's painted black outside, the first floor's all brickwork with black trim...

Saturday, November 01, 2008 - The Compleat Angler is…400 years old and sits perched on the riverside where, in summer, white cabin-cruisers disgorge well-heeled Home Counties couples to sit at the front lawn's white tables and chat the afternoon away. It's here that William Drabble has brought the décor and kitchen skills from Aubergine, the Fulham restaurant where Gordon Ramsay first made his name, and which won Drabble a Michelin star in 1998.

Saturday, October 18, 2008 - From outside, at the top end of Camden Parkway, standing aloof from the down-market boozers and fast-food joints of Camden Town, York & Albany looks like an exceptionally posh American bar. There's no name over the door, the bottles at the bar are gorgeously back-lit, indolent punters sprawl in fat leather armchairs, high-maintenance dames perch at the counter with their beaux and wish they could smoke. It's so cool, you feel pleased with yourself just walking in and ordering a gin and tonic.

Saturday, October 04, 2008 - The Town Bar and Grill has got itself a reputation as one of the grooviest. This is the place, everyone tells you, where Bono and The Edge from U2 took Bruce Springsteen for supper after a gig. The Irish Parliament is across the road, and this is where Irish TDs take each other to scheme and connive in the semi-darkness. Its owners, Temple Garner and Ronan Ryan, have converted the cellar of Mitchell's the wine merchant's into a dining-room, whose crepuscular gloom may be the last word in Dublin chic but is a little lowering to the spirits.

Saturday, September 06, 2008 - It was good, well-flavoured food – but we felt faintly disappointed. Was this what Ms Hartnett came up with, when given carte blanche to imagine and create? However classy the ingredients and subtle the vinaigrettes, we expected something more zingy, more original, more gasp-making. "It's not a courageous menu," said Rose severely. "It's strangely unadventurous for such a ballsy lady."

Saturday, August 09, 2008 - You couldn't accuse Mark Hix of resting on his laurels. Running hell for leather, more like. Since he parted company with Caprice Holdings, owners of Scott's and The Ivy, barely a year ago, he's now opened three restaurants. It's true that in one of them - The Albemarle in Brown's Hotel off Piccadilly - he was more overseeing grandee than chef-proprietor. But in the other two, Hix Oyster & Chop House, and this fish house under review, along with money he has clearly invested his heart and soul. This man is unstoppable.

Saturday, July 26, 2008 - Lunch, when it came, was lovely. Isobel's calves' liver was as well-done as she wanted (she has a Girl Thing about not seeing traces of pink in the membranes) and meltingly tender on its duvet of mustard mash. My "pigs on toast" was trotter-meat pâté served on toast with rocket and Parmesan: very nubbly and dark and masculine, like eating woodland roots. The salt and pepper squid was lightly battered and delicious, until the taste was murdered by the garnish of raw chilli but, really, I should've seen that coming.

Saturday, July 12, 2008 - L'Anima is the Italian word for "the soul" or "the spirit", and it's unusual to find ethereal connotations attached to modern Italian cuisine. Restaurateurs like to emphasise the earthiness, the spicy peasantness, the down-home, hairy-armpitted, beans-and-pasta-soup-iness of vero Italian cooking. You may think it laughable that the River Café calls its fabulous dishes cucina rustica, when no actual rustic Italian could afford a tenth of their Hammersmith prices – but the image was seriously meant.

Saturday, June 28, 2008 - When you first visit The Botanist, you think to yourself: here is a place that needs absolutely no help from a restaurant critic. You can feel (and see and hear) its howling grooviness, its 24-carat trendiosity, from 100 yards away. It radiates heat. It palpitates with excitement.

Saturday, November 10, 2007 - So M. Bosi, I asked, are you in there with the molecular gastronomists, slugging it out with Heston Blumenthal and Ferran Adria? He waved a deprecating hand, as if to say, "Oh, that stuff – too simple." On the strength of my lunch, with its slightly over-ambitious brilliance, M. Bosi will go far.

Saturday, July 07, 2007 - The colossal bill arrived, aptly, in a black envelope, and I silently digested the fact that they charge £8.50 for a gin and tonic and £5 for filter coffee. A drinkable pinot noir at £35 was from the bottom end of the list. But dammit, it was worth it. The place is too churchy, the service over-respectful and the food so relentlessly smooth that you feel like going home and eating dry Rice Krispies0. But this is British cuisine at a high-to-sublime level and you must find someone rich enough to introduce you to it, pronto.