The Ivy

Any A-listers seem to have shipped upstairs to the Ivy's members club, covertly entered via the florist next door. The restaurant itself might boast old-world allure - bottle-green carpets abut oak-panelled walls, and there's a pretty perimeter of stained-glass windows - but the crowd these days seems to consists largely of wayfarers and gawkers, attracted by the exclusive reputation, but given slightly short shrift with squeezed-in tables and narrow time slots.

A top-hatted doorman ensures a majestic entrance and - a nice touch - a copyof The Times is proffered to anyone waiting alone for others in their party. Yet there's something of the assembly line about the operation: Gary Lee's menu of stalwarts, such as Bannockburn rib steak, barnsley lamb chop and corn-fed chicken breast, is duplicated with reliable efficiency and plays safe almost every step of the way. Shepherd's pie and sticky toffee pudding hint at boarding school days of yesteryear.

Dishes are almost impossible to dislike, but equally tricky to love. The Ivy thrives on meeting expectations, not challenging them. Tables are as hotly sought after as ever, though - you may find most success around 5.30pm or 10pm.