Tom Conran on Bibendum

Tom Conran looks comfortable yet out of place in the far corner table of Bibendum. Wearing jeans, a double-breasted suit jacket with a badge on the lapel, and fingering a small heap of cigarette-making equipment on the pristine linen in front of him, he looks a little like a member of a Clash tribute band who has strayed into the South Kensington restaurant by mistake.

If he also has the air of a boyish, off-duty kitchen hand who should be snatching a quick smoke outside the back of the restaurant, it comes as no surprise - that is exactly what he once was. He used to work here, and although the style of the place could not be more different to that of his businesses, he claims that of all his father's restaurants, this is his favourite. 'It was the first, and I was involved. When Bibendum opened in 1987, I used to run the oyster bar. It was a crossover restaurant with old-school service, but offered a contemporary mix of interesting food, based very much on good values.'

As if to illustrate his point, our starters arrive. Tom has ordered a dish of smoked eels with French beans and pancetta. 'All the flavours are good,' he says, 'but it is a little fridge-cold.' He singles out the beans for particular praise. 'They are not the Kenyan beans you see everywhere, these are haricots fines.' He clearly approves.

A lot has happened to London restaurants in the 15 years since Bibendum opened. For a start, eel is no longer the gastronomic equivalent of a pair of trousers rolled halfway up the calf and a knotted hanky on the head. Back in those days, people who dressed like Tom Conran and rolled their own cigarettes did not go to smart restaurants. And, to be honest, Tom still doesn't feel comfortable in all his father's restaurants. He finds Pont de la Tour a little 'executive' for his tastes.

But he is very much his father's son and prides himself similarly on the democracy of his establishments. 'Look at this,' he says excitedly of his main course of escalope of pork and prosciutto with polenta. 'It is sublime. They do a three-course menu for £20. Pitch that against even a pub meal and it's amazing value.'

Lower the voice an octave or two, add the aroma of a fine Havana rather than a roll-up, and it could be Sir Terence speaking. But Tom does not share all his father's passions. 'It tastes fine and is probably just how my father likes it,' he says of a slab of Lincolnshire cheese, implying that it is perhaps not quite the way he would serve it.

It is from his mother, cookery writer Caroline - Sir Terence's third wife - that Tom says he got the inspiration to go into the restaurant business. Conran senior's Messianic mission to create a British design sensibility meant it was Caroline who influenced Tom's early life.

'Dad opened Habitat in 1964, the year I was born, so I know what was uppermost in his mind. One of the reasons I decided to go into the restaurant business was because it was one industry my father was not so involved in. I thought, "Great, I can cut my own channels." Lo and behold, two years after I got into the business, Dad opened this place and then there was no stopping him.'

Tom has inherited the Conran work ethic, tempered with a warmth that he feels his father possesses but sometimes has difficulty demonstrating. But it is with undisguised warmth that he adds, 'I am very proud of my father, but I don't expect anything from him.'