The Waterside Inn

The setting is tranquillity itself. Some rather flamboyant neighbours may have moved in a few years ago but the village of Bray is as serenely unruffled as it has been for centuries, and the Waterside has been a part of its appeal since the early 1970s. Has England anything to offer more fair than sitting at a riverside table, with boats gently bobbing at the jetty, birdsong filling the air and the Thames glinting green in the sunlight? Even if you're not of the alfresco persuasion, the dining room itself is a delight, a wide, relaxing room full of the gentle babble of conversation, and service that runs on imperceptible rollers, fantastically efficient in its discretion. Alain Roux was a worthy inheritor of his father Michel's mantle. The Waterside continues to offer a highly burnished version of haute cuisine, some of it lightly infused with the culinary modernism of today, some with the best bits of the culinary modernism of 30 years ago. It mostly looks immaculate and, at its best, takes possession of the palate with haunting intensity of flavour. Need we say again that it all comes at a fair old price? Well yes, in the sense that whatever your idea of a fair old price is, it's more than that. The main courses for two, such as the Challandais duck with prunes and Puy lentils, or the milk-fed lamb stuffed with morels in sauce paloise, or the whole braised turbot with lobster mousseline, have now nudged into three figures. But the attention to detail, from the hawkishly accurate cooking times to the solicitous carving at table, are probably unmatched anywhere for this style of food. First courses range from the long-running lobster medallions in white port with gingered vegetable strips to the sublime sautéed foie gras with caramelised orange, but in case the appetite for gastro-luxuries palls, it's quite possible just to have a spring herb salad, or an assiette of stuffed vegetables. Patisserie skills are refined to such a pitch of excellence that it would be remiss to dodge a dessert. Look to the vanilla millefeuille with strawberries in Melba sauce and mascarpone ice cream, or one of the technically brilliant soufflés - say, rhubarb and raspberry - for evidence. Opt for the Menu Exceptionnel, and you'll surely never forget the experience. A wine list to take to a desert island is fully in accordance with the exalted tone, both in its impeccable quality and extent and its cost.