This Gallic restaurant in Fitzrovia has long been acclaimed amongst the cognoscenti as one of London’s leading foodie shrines. Wider appeal always seems to have proved elusive, with the stilted ambience – not helped by the long and thin proportions of the premises, whose small top-lit dining room is hidden away at the rear – partially to blame. A major fire last year at last provided the opportunity for a total revamp. The new monochromatic styling is comfortable and contemporary, if perhaps a bit short on character. The best tables are at the front (for couples), or the circular banquettes to the rear (for four). There’s also a stylish bar upstairs, plus a striking private room. Service at the re-launched operation is friendly, and looks professional, but did not seem drilled to quite the degree you might expect at this level. It’s pernickety, but at this level you expect the waiters to know who ordered what, and they got it wrong twice. But what about Shane Osborn’s food, which is what it’s really all about? Unfortunately, three people – including a guest with wide culinary experience on three continents – came to the same conclusion: it was fine. In the context, however, of a restaurant which generally charges £75 a head and up, ‘fine’ isn’t really good enough. Nothing was bad, but – aside from numerous enjoyable twiddles and petits fours and an outstanding pear pudding – nothing hit the big time. A couple of starters – scallops and black chicken tortellini – showed some promise, but all the main dishes (venison, turbot and sea-bass) were forgettable, and so was the bread (notwithstanding a copious selection) and the coffee. Despite the recent conflagration here, a bit more spark might still not go amiss.
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