The Victorian aristocracy regarded trade with horror, so Belgravia’s vast main squares contain only houses and churches. No restaurants, of course, as gentlemen dined in private houses or their clubs. No pubs, either: strictly for the servants, these were pokey places hidden away in the mews. And point of all this social history… is that, to this day, Belgravia – which is apparently once again becoming fashionable in squillionaire circles – is almost totally devoid of decent eating places, especially less formal ones. This is one of the reasons why the most obvious candidate – the ever-lively Oliveto – is so popular. A young local entrepreneur has sensed an opportunity. He has bought the only boozer on Belgravia ‘high street’ and turned it into the sort of tavern which Cubitt – the area’s master builder – might have built for the local nobs, had the mores of the time been different. The result is an elegant corner site, with much natural light, and a high-quality, woody interior of late-Georgian sobriety (and with three fireplaces). Illumination is not by gas-lamp, but the few bare bulbs create an impression not so very different. The decoration is with contemporary maps and other ephemera of the development of the Grosvenor Estate. It is all unusually civilised. The food – while not ambitious – is not bad, especially for a snack. Successes on a recent visit included rock oysters and a delicious vegetarian tart, Less good – in fact, pretty awful – was a piece of slow-cooked lamb. It’s still ‘early days’, though, and – in the badlands of Belgravia – the bar is already a stand-by well worth knowing about. There is a slightly more formal dining room upstairs: a couple of months delay before visiting might give the kitchen time to rise to the standard of the setting.
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