L'Oranger

A period frontage greets arrivals on swanky St James's Street. Inside, everything is shipshape. Aged oak panels, luxurious upholstery and a conservatory make L'Oranger a pretty restaurant. The room is warm and tranquil, and in summer you can dine in the delightful belle époque courtyard. The menu arrives in a gold cover, with dishes described in fanciful terms such as 'caramelia' - toffee mousse, salted butter toffee and chocolate sorbet. Service is courteous in the main, but it's hard to forgive an amuse bouche of leek and cauliflower velouté (a little stodgy) appearing at the same time as our first courses, and forgetfulness over the cutlery. When we queried this we were blanked by a sulky waiter. From the lunch menu, we started with a delicate ravioli of artichoke, which proved a blithe companion for pan-fried artichoke core, jazzed up with a black truffle sauce. The kitchen can fluff its lines, though, and this ravioli dish was under-seasoned. Flirtation with the Mediterranean continued with beignet of cod, which proved a snappy match for sautéed green beans and earthy mousserons mushrooms, stirred into life by a tangy cherry-tomato coulis, with pesto adding a final flourish. Desserts can be whimsical; a mandarin orange and earl grey 'babakuba' style, turned out to be square-shaped rum baba, served with a classy Valrhona Xocomeli chocolate ganache, and topped with sweet spices. With coffee, mini-chocolate fondant was a sure-fire winner. The cooking, from chef Laurent Michel, is hardly trend-setting, but it possesses a sunny Provençal appeal. Combinations of ingredients are usually agreeable, yet can lack pronounced flavours. However, this doesn't entirely detract from the pleasure of the surroundings. Wines are expensive, and focused on Burgundy and Bordeaux, with the New World appearing as an afterthought.