Hélène Darroze at the Connaught

There's a certain defiance evident in Hélène Darroze's evolving menu. Asian flavours are overt, from tandoori spices, via sarawak and lampong pepper, to gomasio and miso; Scottish salmon is presented as homage to the Japanese architect Tadao Ando.

Ingredients and concepts are sourced from Spain and Italy, as well as Britain and Darroze's home ground of south-west France. Design on the plate is intricate, feminine, at times impossibly pretty. Yet it all works as a nicely balanced, entirely enjoyable eating experience - exciting but never needlessly challenging. As such, it matches the Connaught's furnishings beautifully: dark wood softened with olive tones and gold swirls, deeply comfortable chairs and banquettes, elegant tableware.

Staff are efficient, as expected, but display a marked absence of froideur, happy to engage in conversation if diners are so inclined. Which all makes for remarkably relaxing high-end dining.

The set lunch (notably the wine-inclusive deal, which includes two small glassfuls, to match each savoury course) remains an absolute pleasure. That said, while some dishes appeared seamlessly seasoned and virtually flawless - from a wild mushroom velouté of perfect texture, temperature and woodsiness, via a deceptively simple dish of plump, moreish aubergine ravioli, to a visually stunning revelation of 'blue fish' ceviche (could mackerel conceivably prove so startlingly fresh?) - all was not quite perfect.

The fiercely reduced sauce accompanying stuffed tomato seemed out of kilter until diluted by tomato juices, which then rendered the whole thing rather watery. Hashed lamb (and duck and foie gras) filling was a clever take on tradition, but not endlessly exciting. However, the brilliantly textured and nuanced chocolate dessert remains one of the best expressions of chocolate we've encountered. So, a treat, all told.