Not so fin-e fish

This review was published in September 2001

For anyone who doesn't work there, the City is a fascinating place to visit. The office towers juxtaposed with older buildings, the increasing number of smart shops, the clean streets and - even on the days the FTSE tumbles to a new low - the intoxicating air of prosperity, all combine to make it oddly attractive.

It is presumably the rising expectations of those who work there, coupled with their increasing affluence over the past few years, that has led to a growth in the number of restaurants in and around the City. Some of these places are good, others just average - albeit with higher-than-average prices.

Leadenhall Market is a typical City place. Tucked around the corner from the Lloyd's Building, it took its name from a lead-roofed mansion that belonged to the Neville family in the 14th century. Back then, it was the place where those who lived outside London came to sell their poultry, cheese and butter. Its current incarnation dates from the late 19th century, and is a cross between Oxford's covered market and Milan's Galleria Vittorio Emanuele. This triumph of Victorian engineering, which has been revamped as a Covent Garden-esque area, is home to a few boutiques, a pub, and Chamberlain's fish restaurant.

The look of Chamberlain's is a mixture of inoffensive modernity coupled with a half-hearted attempt at quasi-industrial chic - a bit of visible ducting, display hooks left over from the site's former life, and a disturbing slide projection of the restaurant's logo on a whitewashed wall.

The entrance, through the old-fashioned shop front, reveals a small bar, some tables and a mezzanine level with more tables. There is also a downstairs bar and light luncherie (perfect for City Boy in a hurry) and, up another flight of stairs, a more formal restaurant for those who can take things at their own pace. There is also a little fish shop.

On the evening I turned up, this panoply of dining and drinking opportunities was sadly underused. I think there were two, maybe three, tables occupied and, in line with City hours, these people soon cleared off. Admittedly, we did visit at the height of summer, shortly after the place had opened, but nevertheless this highlights one big potential problem faced by City restaurants: massive lunchtime but negligible night-time business.

However, Chamberlain's ought to do well as it trades on the freshness of its fish. The owner is Les Steadman, a second-generation fish porter who, at the age of 18, became Billingsgate's youngest-ever porter. Thus, the menu is spectacularly piscine. A bit of crispy duck or grilled veal might turn up here and there, but carnivores really have no business here.

I ordered a good lobster papardelle to start, followed by the plain grilled turbot. So it came as something of a surprise when the plain turbot arrived with sauce vin blanc and brown shrimps. As a chunk of turbot, it was pretty near faultless; it's just that I had been hoping to try it without the attendant bits and pieces. As it was, the sauce was not that bad and, given all the mussels and brown shrimps you got, at £28 it represented better value than the plain turbot at £27. But at these prices, you might reasonably expect your order to be taken correctly. Happily, my dining companion was able to reassure me that the plain grilled Dover sole was excellent.

For some reason I succumbed to dessert, the sticky toffee pudding - not the finest example of the genre, but perfectly palatable and enhanced by chunks of toffee dotted here and there in the pool of sauce.

Rather strangely - given the propensity of smoke to rise - the smoking area is situated directly below the no-smoking mezzanine. However, by the time our tisanes arrived, we had the restaurant to ourselves so I was able to torch up a Hoyo with impunity.

The fish is good, the restaurant manager intelligent and pleasant, the sommelier a character and, on the whole, the place is all right. But it's hardly unique. Moreover, for the money (dinner for two with two glasses of Pouilly-Fum? came to £134.44) one has a right to get exactly what one asks for.