Northall

Last week we gave top marks to the afternoon tea in the Lobby Lounge at the swanky new Corinthia Hotel. This week, we're taking a left out of its striking foyer to Northall, a modern British restaurant that overlooks Embankment station through huge curved glass windows.

Hotel restaurants are often accused of blandness, of playing it safe so as not to alarm an unadventurous captive clientele (ie the residents). Massimo, the Italian restaurant in the hotel's west wing, conformed to this stereotype, but we still gave it four stars for its attention to detail. And although Northall's menu shows a few signs of risklessness - with steaks, a beef burger, fish and chips - the kitchen shows imagination and skill sufficient to let this restaurant stand on its own.

Like the other rooms in the Corinthia, Northall's a showstopper: grand and luxuriously appointed with select modern flourishes. The ceilings soar, tables are immaculately dressed. A serious amount of money has been spent here.

Service was slick, though staff could be allowed to show a little more personality. Our sommelier opened up a bit though with an enthusiastic recommendation of a carmenère, from the cheap end of a decent list.

Seafood and shellfish dominate a menu that takes provenance porn to new depths of depravity: every dish lists a producer's name, eg 'Dover sole with soft herb mayonnaise and lemon. Matthew Stevens, Cornwall'.

Our salad of ox tongue and warm hen's egg came with diced pickle and soft herbs, and was made with beautifully flavoursome sliced meat (Lake District Farm, FYI). Sliced sea scallops with fermented lemon dressing (better than it sounds) and cress was good too; the molluscs were springy and the dressing tingly.

Mains hit the same heights: the Cumbrian beef burger was one of the best we've had in London, tasting of not much more than first-class steak and all the better for it. A perfectly roasted fillet of pollock was scattered with deep-fried pieces of squid and apostrophised with smears of rouille and sticky ink sauce. The only let-down was 'triple-cooked chips' - if they were, I'll volunteer myself for the last two oil-dunkings, so little was the effect they had on the spuds.

But desserts picked things up again: a vivid apple chiboust (a sort of thick custard) was presented on a spicy gingerbread base and sharpened by apple sorbet.

The caveat to all this is the bill. A luxury hotel in SW1 is never going to be cheap. There's a 'daily market menu' at £22.50 for three courses: it may not offer the best cooking at this price in London, but it's a more realistic proposition for most people.