Like a well-cut blazer, Chez Bruce may not be especially original, but it is largely reliable. In 2010 the restaurant expanded into the neighbouring site, but little changed (apart from the increased seating), and not much has altered since. With a pale colour scheme, tasteful framed art on the walls, proper glassware and staff in crisp shirts and ties, the look is a study in classic (if slightly dated) restaurant decor. The cooking is equally timeless, led decisively by the French school (foie gras, côte de boeuf), without much deference to culinary fads. Rillettes of wild sea trout, dill and crème fraîche were accompanied by a mouthful of smoked eel and a wide array of edible garnishes – from Lilliputian dices of apple to sprigs of watercress – to produce a plate of food that looked as good as it tasted. Tender, slow-cooked calf’s cheek served with golden braised sweetbreads and perfectly al dente baby vegetables was no less impressive. Only a dessert of cloyingly sweet caramel topped with two mousses (milk chocolate, salted caramel) and pieces of honeycomb was uncharacteristically misjudged. The formal service was also a touch over-attentive. Our advice? Immerse yourself in the wine list – one of the finest (and best value) in the capital – and any minor slip-ups will quickly be forgotten.