Quaglino's

Quaglino's is a relic from the early 1990s and, like grunge, now seems dated. People once queued for a chance to steal the branded Q-shaped ashtrays from this one-time celebrity hangout, but the glory days are over. The vast double-height dining room resembles a food court at an American shopping mall, with a dull blue glow cast over a display of fruits de mer and bold floral arrangements.

The menu succeeds where it is simple: quality smoked salmon served with a dollop of crème fraîche and a few capers was good. Yet when the kitchen (just visible from the dining room) is moved to be creative, trouble can ensue.

Competently cooked sea bream shouldn't have been paired with a medley of sautéed apples and currants that would have been far more at home with roast pork. An overcooked bulb of pak choi plopped into the middle of the beurre blanc added to the mess.

The venue retains hints of its glamorous past: there's still a piano in the bar, servers are courteous, the wine list offers reasonable variety. These days, however, even food in the neighbouring clubs might be more innovative and certainly tastier.