A very Islington affair

Nothing could be more Islington than Ottolenghi, which may sound a bit odd as the first branch of this deli/cakeshop/restaurant was in Notting Hill Gate. This place is as chic, neat, modernist and as trendy as only Islingtonies know how to be.

The concept is a very attractive one - Ottolenghi is a sort of ¸ber-deli and bakery for the style police. In the window is a droolprovoking display of cakes, fruit tarts and Viennoiserie --there's even a pyramid of home-made meringues that manage to look rustic, sophisticated and delicious all at the same time.

Down the middle of the dining room stretches a single refectory table made of white melamine - or some similar space-age material. The chairs are modern and white and red. The walls are decorated with a long and complex sculpture of interwoven wire. There are cut-glass candle holders which vaguely mark out the territory between you and the next diner, but this is a cheekby-jowl affair. Visit for dinner and you will probably need to book (if you do turn up on the off chance, avoid the witching hour when the Almeida Theatre chucks out, because a host of respectable, wellheeled folk will be wandering across Upper Street for supper).

When you sit down and get the menu you will find that the starters operate in a novel 'default setting' sort of way. Unless you opt to abstain, some bread arrives, plus the kitchen's choice of three starters - like the menu things vary from session to session. For example, your £5.50 might bring you good bread and oil, a fresh herb salad with roasted nuts, lemon juice and olive oil --very good indeed - a decent dressing and some moody leaves (very green and healthy in the cold depths of winter), home-made Labneh cheese with olive oil and thyme, a cheesy, yoghurty dip and a baked pear with gorgonzola and lemon juice. Presumably, if you do not care for cheesy starters you go without.

The main courses are well handled. Pan-fried red mullet and mussels are served in a tarragon spiked tomato sauce and come with a sourdough crouton. A Hereford beef ribeye steak comes with rosti and buttered French beans. Pan-fried calf's liver is flamed with brandy and plated with mashed potatoes and a butter sauce. There are black tiger prawns cooked with tomatoes, olives and arak liquor and served with fresh pasta. 'Seven hour' braised lamb shoulder is very good indeed, benefiting from the long slow cooking and deliciously glutinous - it comes with some root vegetables.

The plating is stylish (think Islington) and the standard of cooking high. The wine list is short and while there are some serious bottles (such as the £68 Barolo) there are enough more accessible bins for mere mortals.

As you would expect of a place that is a cake-shop by day, the puds are jolly good. Warm chocolate cream is teamed with plum and rhubarb compote. There's a warm apple pie with Calvados custard - good pastry and splendidly tart apple. Or a quince cheesecake that comes with sour cream --another well-made pud, this is a baked cheesecake with a layer of stewed quinces, the pastry holds up well and the stodgy bit is admirably light.

Service is a bit erratic but well-meaning and nothing to grumble about. Due to the sharing-a-single-table aspect there is plenty of entertainment for anyone who is into eavesdropping --to the right there may be a discussion about the day's casting calls and to the left a debate about the viola player in a leading orchestra. All in all, Ottolenghi is a very Islington phenomenon, so it would be unfair to point out that although prices may be a little high, they obviously pass for normal on Upper Street.