A pretty nice spot

When I went to check out The Mitre, it had only been open a day or two and I traipsed in with a group of soggy, loud people. I gave it the benefit of the doubt when a lot of the dishes were off, or orders arrived at extraordinary times, while the team of chefs beavering away in the open kitchen were melting on to the chargrill. To the last, the staff were polite.

The Mitre replaces the miserable Rat And Parrot, which was always empty. Its new interior structure is different: around the central well of the kitchen is a bar, then there's an open pub floor with a few informal tables. Raised up a few steps is 'the dining room', serving the same menu. In one corner, there is a dark, loungey area. The decor has been stripped right back, with exposed brickwork in pillars, simple white walls, a few mirrors and a huge lamp throwing out warm red light. So far, so self-consciously fashionable. Every box was ticked so neatly that it could only be a chain's respectable stab at gastropubbery.

The food was a mixed bag. A roasted gilt-head bream, a firm, full-flavoured fish with a silky texture, was cooked spot-on. Rack of lamb was lacking in flavour and tenderness. I had some oysters with Tabasco, lime and guacamole, and they came hot with cheese. Which, as Granny would say, came up a tasty mess, but left the oyster a tiny tear of a bridesmaid to the cheese's boisterous bride. Halfway through the meal I thought: 'Sod this, I'll come back tomorrow.'

Everything looked 100 per cent better the following day. I repeated my main, confit guinea fowl, which consisted of a nicely ragged confited leg and a moist, if tasteless, bit of breast. The mash was creamy, buttery and if not great, then good, while the red cabbage had both sharpness and a lightly jammy texture. I took the best-looking man from the previous night, and his toad-in-the-hole came as two sausages sitting across, rather

than in, the Yorkshire-pud hole. They were perfectly reasonable sausages, and the batter was as good. We both had the same dark gravy, which was as meaty and pleasant as a ubiquitous 'one size fits all' sauce can be.

If you were going to conduct an affair in the gossipy environs of W11, this would be the ideal place. The trendies won't come here, but as it goes, it's a pretty nice spot.

The Mitre
40 Holland Park Avenue, W11 3QY