You beauty! Dawood & Tanner tooth cleanser

I went to the most amazing dentist the other day. And I loathe the dentist. My first experience was with my father’s dentist who was older than God, didn’t believe in anaesthetic and had me held down (I was six) while he drilled. Very Marathon Man.

A visit to the dentist is the only time I ever take Valium. But I was straight on the morning I pitched up at Dawood & Tanner, an absurdly hi-tech practice in a Wimpole Street house that feels completely un-medical and un-municipal: Timorous Beasties wallpaper, cool 1950s chairs, original ceiling friezes, two operating theatres, on-site orthodontists, dental technicians so skilled as model-makers and so aesthetically aware that they mould for Ron Arad and some of Britain’s most famous artists — the names are all kept very schtum. And it doesn’t feel like a dentist’s, so I wasn’t frightened. And the hygienists gave me the pearliest gnashers in half an hour.

Dawood & Tanner also makes its own toothpastes. Try the Sicilian Lemon — counterintuitive yet zesty and tangy with a freshening citrus bite that’s very different from bog-standard mint but has the same zingy appeal. And doesn’t make orange juice taste like petrol.

Laced with essential oils, sodium fluoride, xylitol to see off decay, and sodium bicarbonate, a natural whitener and polish that neutralises evil plaque acids, this stuff is really diverting. And there’s a Brazilian Lime flavour that tastes like a mojito. Who knew toothpaste could be witty?

Dawood & Tanner Tooth Cleanser, £5.25, at deliciousteeth.com