Happy hour in a Mayfair muse

Having written about the vexed relationship of wines to Indian food twice in the past six months, I left Charles Campion to his own devices and desires this week, and paid a visit to THE GREENHOUSE instead. This restaurant, in the same ownership as The Capital Hotel, had a minor facelift a few months ago and has been promising alfresco tables in its courtyard for a while. More importantly, like its Capital parent, The Greenhouse has always had a gently magnetic wine list and I wanted to see what Australian sommelier Mark van der Goot had been able to achieve there.

The Greenhouse is situated in a Mayfair mews - the sacrosanct quietness of which is why, for the time being, the alfresco alternative is off. Negotiations continue. I hope they succeed, since my enthusiasm for the brilliant list built by van der Goot knows few limits and it would be lovely to discuss his fine bottles with sunlit friends, and with the odd sparrow, too. Few limits? Actually only one: the prices, which are everything the word "Mayfair" conjures up.

I wondered if this ought to inhibit me from giving the list full marks, but decided in the end that it shouldn't, since I am confident that the enthusiastic and industrious van der Goot can find anyone a fine bottle for no more than £35 plus service.

Why is it so good? Because it's the first list I've ever come across which is perfectly balanced. Where, in other words, the Australian selections are every bit as good as the French, where New Zealand matches California, where Italy squares up to Spain. Van der Goot was born in the Hunter Valley, and he goes to the trouble of buying at auction in Australia to put rare bottlings and older stock onto his list here. Not only that, but the younger Australian wines here really are the equivalent of the best French bottles, in that they are almost all produced by individual, small-scale wine-growers creating hand-crafted wines.

So why, with our three-course set lunch (£21 plus £2.63 service), did we drink French? The truth is that handcrafted Australian wines from small growers are much more expensive than hand-crafted French wines from small growers of equivalent quality.

Both of us chose grilled pave of beef for our main course; van der Goot suggested the 2001 Torbreck Juveniles. It was £45 (£50.61 including service), whereas I could see half-a-dozen great French alternatives in the £30 range; in the end, we went for the 1996 (well aged, note) Chateau Bouscasse Vieilles Vignes of Alain Brumont in Madiran for just £32 (plus £4 service).

Having tasted both (van der Goot was kind enough to give us a sample of the Juveniles) I can tell you that the Australian had beautifully soft, spicy and glycerous fruit of great harmony, but that the Madiran, with its smoke, truffles and prunes and softly tannic depths, was unquestionably more profound.

Paul Merrett's deft, unpretentious cooking made this a happy few hours (mouth-melting baked strawberry brioche more than made up for having to sit inside). The service, especially from van der Goot who has the ability (innate normally only in the French) to see the whole room simultaneously, was for once well worth the final levy. Wine list scores 5 out of 5.