W2's biggest hit

Within the next month, Giorgio Locatelli should open his new place in Blackfriars, which, he promises, will be a thrilling yet affordable insight into the produce of Italy. A sort of Locatelli diffusion kitchen.

I think people are ready for what he has planned - less decor, more culinary simplicity, and uncompromisingly high standards.

Is it so much to ask for? Or does London truly belong to the rich? You'd certainly think so to look at the prices charged by most decent restaurants.

It's always a buzz to find a place within spitting distance of W1 which, for under £35 a head, ticks every box - food, wine, service, ambience, individuality. Somewhere that feels enough of an event to be a good night out, and not just dinner.

The Frontline is such a place. Being aware that sometimes my positive judgement of a restaurant is down to great company, I went twice - with friends who eat out 'fancy' a lot. On the second night, I took a restaurateur for a critical perspective. Both times proved an utter pleasure.

We sat among an interesting selection of diners, as this place is part of a private members' club for war photographers and reporters. There is a queer moment when you come in and see some nice grainy photographs, then the impact of their subject matter sinks in.

Time is required between arriving and ordering, to feel capable of kicking back and chilling surrounded by photographic evidence of tragedy. A sombre note on the back of the menu says the restaurant and club were founded by surviving members of the Frontline Freelance Reporters' Agency in memory of the eight of its members killed in the field.

So, the war correspondent Phillip Knightley was in with his family. A country & western songwriter was in, wearing a splendid rhinestone suit, snakeskin boots and a dirtylooking blonde. Sarah Bailey, the new deputy editor of Harper's Bazaar, was there. A pair of fabulous OTT OAPs, wearing orange, sat next to us - all this on a grotty street in Paddington.

Exposed brick, oversized lampshades, the right sort of white on the walls - the decor is deceptively well thought out and architectural. The wine list was, the restaurateur said, 'distinctly gastro', and packed with favourites such as Mulderbosch.

Head chef Lenny Walcott is from the popular Scottish Boisdale, so he should know what he is doing with a game bird. Game terrine constituted wild boar, pheasant and walnut. The meat was lean and, therefore, the texture a little unsupple, but, at under £6, it was exceptionally good value. A quail salad was fine, though the leaves swamped the minutely winged pieces of quail, which is rarely gamey enough for my taste.