British-with-knobs-on

Franklins has a good buzz to it. There are about 40 seats upstairs and another 12 tables downstairs. As you step in off the street there's a small bar area, the cosiness of which betrays this site's former incarnation as a pub. Franklins does have a gastropubby feel but the dining rooms dominate, however much the locals appreciate the bar as a place for a quiet drink.

The food is British-with-knobs-on. The widespread influence of St John is apparent in the terse descriptions on the daily-changing menu, such as 'calves liver and pease pudding'.

There are some foreign interventions, but generally they work well and a certain amount of re-naming has been necessary to preserve the 'Britishness' of some dishes, thus a rather good starter of soused mackerel - firm, full-flavoured and not too vinegary - comes on a 'tomato toast'. The man who invented bruschetta is probably instructing his lawyers. But whatever you call it, the result is good to eat.

The service combines friendly with businesslike. Food arrives briskly (maybe because in the post-Yule lull the restaurant is only a quarter full). The starters range from white beans, rocket and goat's curd, to chicken liver pate and chutney, steamed mussels and spiced beef, pickles and mustard.

The latter is a simple dish, the well made spiced beef is rich in flavour and not too salty. It is served with a very competitive pickled onion and some pickled cucumber slices that were a little too saline. The star of the condiments is the honey-mustard - a simple but effective idea, yellow English mustard made up with honey.

Move on to the seven mains. Vegetarians get one to themselves - baked squash and cauliflower cheese - then there's the safe option - sirloin, chips and Béarnaise, or roast quail and wild mushrooms, or smoked haddock, celeriac and saffron. A dish of saddle of venison with red cabbage and bacon is well done. Each slice comes pink and tender, served with hearty red cabbage braised with lardons of bacon.

Then there's 'Old Spot belly, with fennel and chorizo' - an example of the British-with-knobs-on approach. You could just about make a case that fennel can be grown in Britain even though it seems more of a Mediterranean vegetable. But chorizo? The pork is cooked masterfully, crisp crackling and melting meat. The only weakness of this dish is the clash between rich pork and the (albeit rather good) rich and spicy chorizo.

This dish cries out for something sharp to balance the rounded flavour of the belly - an English apple sauce perhaps?

Puds are good - particularly the gingerbread ice cream, which has an excellent texture and comes with a very fine brandy snap whose fieriness may have been goosed with a little chilli. The result is something that tastes hot to go with each cold spoonful. Very successful. It's also good to see British cheeses and savouries on offer even if it is hard to keep enough appetite in reserve to do them justice.

The wine list is short, but forgiving price-wise. The rich red 'Stump Jump' from Australia is worth a look, especially at £15.50.