Scott's

Trends in hospitality come and go with humbling speed. It’s reassuring therefore that, after 175 years at the top, this Mayfair seafood restaurant - beloved of Winston Churchill, Charlie Chaplin and Ian Fleming - hasn’t lost a well-heeled step.

Part of Scott’s appeal is that, while the surroundings are polished and the atmosphere decidedly grown-up, this isn’t a stultifying or fusty institution. Scott’s wants its customers to have a laugh. The twinkle in the long-serving doorman’s eye, the giddy hum of gossiping diners around the room’s central marble bar, the grace and humour of the servers. Combine all that with ever-flowing bottles of champagne, and it all adds up to a deliriously fun time. 

And while nobody is going to mistake this restaurant for a neighbourhood chippy, the menu at Scott’s is testament to the timeless power of (relative) simplicity. 

A trio of scallops arrive in their shells, bobbing in Ají amarillo butter, finished with jalapeno slivers. It’s a punchy sauce that doesn’t overpower the scallops’ natural sweetness. The Skipness smoked salmon meanwhile, is a more restrained proposition, relying on the quality of the fish (Scott’s spends somewhere in the region of £50k a week on fresh fish) and the work done at the smokehouse. With a bit of bread and a squeeze of lemon this slice of salmon is transmutated into one of London’s best starters.

The menu is testament to the timeless power of (relative) simplicity

Dover sole, the restaurant’s best-known item, is the sort of dish that, for £55, needs to turn up match fit, with its shooting boots on. Cooking meunière is straightforward in principle: the fish is cooked in butter, with lemon and parsley, until the sauce takes on a nutty, browned character without ever getting scorched (or drying out the fish.) Mine was exceptional. Obviously it was. But, like your team’s striker confidently putting away a penalty that was ‘never in doubt’, it’s still thrilling when it happens. Elsewhere, a cudgel of deep-fried haddock, perched jauntily on an island of emerald-green mushy peas, serves as a welcome reminder that seafood restaurants needn’t treat every meal as an occasion for architectural plating. 

Anyone wanting to veer dangerously off-piste should go for the Mangalorean monkfish and tiger prawn curry, served with pilaf rice, moreish shallots and minted yoghurt. While the monkfish portion could have been more generous for £42, the gravy and the fish cooking was on a par with any of the famous Indian restaurants in Mayfair.

Ultimately, places like Scott’s are only as good as their staff. You can spend a fortune on wooden panelling, fly in the most executive of chefs and adorn your dishes with more flowers and microherbs than Kew, but it’s all for naught if the maître d is on his phone playing Candy Crush when you walk in. Thankfully here, the staff (none of whom knew I was there to review) add to the sense of occasion. And that’s not because they’ve been told to grovel or genuflect to the customer’s every whim. At Scott’s the staff know what they’re doing, are attentive when necessary and probably have about 200 regular customers’ predilections and particulars committed to memory. In London, that kind of casual competence, untainted by oleaginous American service culture, is in short supply. 

Form is temporary but class - like Scott’s - is eternal.

The vibe Smart and slick Mayfair dining. One of the area’s most attractive, wood-panelled dining rooms to boot.

The food Traditional seafood cookery complimented by contemporary sauces and globally influenced flavours. The fish is still very much the dish.

The drink Champagne, a substantial wine list and all of the finest spirits known to man.

Time Out tip Caviar is available, from its own dedicated menu. In quantities and at prices that make it advisable to establish how much you’d like before anyone reaches for the tin.