A gastronomic change

The Phene Arms is the Chelsea pub with the distinction of being George Best's favourite boozer for many years. Recently done up as a gastro, it is barely recognisable as the snug, shabby old Victorian boozer it once was - now it's all conceptual greys and moody lighting.

I went to review it two months ago, didn't like it, rang the chef to discuss this and he urged me to give them one more go, because now the owners had decided they didn't want the expense involved in gaining a Michelin star, their original aim, and they were going to simplify the menu.

I returned with Antonia and the glamorous and worldly Valentine, aka Luminous Jedi, who after living in Paris for 20 years now lives in Chelsea and hates what they have done to the Phene. 'I thought it was far more glamorous when it was ancient, this is a sacrilegious thing to do.' Everyone who lives in Chelsea hates what they have done to the Phene. This is inverted snobbery, it will pass.

The restaurant looks kind of awful. There is bad naif art on the walls -three canvases of a naked, dewy, docile girl. Totally horrible. 'It should be burnt,' said Valentine.

It smells kind of awful, too. The room smells a bit chippy, a familiar old pubby smell you don't get with the bare boards in modern gastropubs. That special combination of fat friers and dark red carpet is, happily, a dying aromatic breed. The kitchen door was open - they should keep it shut.

The flowers are bad. Antonia: 'Petrol-station flowers.' They were the ugliest variety of chrysanthemums known to man. 'Horrid, horrid,' said Valentine.

But the food is some of the most sublime I have eaten in a pub in a long time. It is classic French with a Swedish twist. It exceeds the gastropub norm - for the same price as your usual fishcake and S&M joint you can eat impressive and inventive food at the Phene.

So what did we eat? First, some interesting and strongly flavoured bread, one nutty and malty was made with rye and Guinness. An amuse bouche of crab, gravadlax and asparagus arrived (suggesting these prices are not for the long term).

Grilled sardines came with a sherry reduction and honey yoghurt and had been stripped of the worst of their bones. Bliss. The sweet and pungent accompaniments charmed the sardines' bitterness and accented their sweet quality. Clever, simple, impeccable. Valentine said her gravadlax was, 'Gorgeous. Très refiné!'

Antonia's fois gras was moussey, a great example of itself, and came on pieces of panne epice, which had been fried to give a sweet caramelised quality. Another sweet element was going on with a port reduction, truly delicious.