Galvin La Chapelle

One of the more eye-catching jewels in the constantly enlarging Galvin brothers' crown, La Chapelle has been fashioned from what was originally the gymnasium of a Victorian girls' school. The restored brickwork and beams confer real character on the space, and the mezzanine level provides for tantalising bird's-eye views of the action below. Immaculately dressed tables and a professional service team add distinction and class to the occasion, and a fine wine list is built on the sturdy foundations of a run of vintages of the great north Rhône red, Hermitage La Chapelle, one of France's finest utterances of the Syrah grape. In keeping with that, the prevailing culinary winds are distinctly cross-Channel, with much Français menu lingo (pavés, étuvés and such), and classic Gallic ingredients and techniques in evidence. The truffled onion velouté is garnished with roast frog legs, while a pressed terrine comprised of Landes chicken, Bayonne ham and foie gras could hardly be more fondly Francophile unless it were delivered by a waiter singing La Marseillaise. That said, the odd more obviously modern-Brit note intervenes productively, as when pickled mackerel with shaved fennel and apple and cucumber 'condiment' delivers plenty of pugnacious punch on the prix-fixe. But then look at the cuisine grand-mère simplicity of roast corn-fed chicken and petits pois à la française: it's an object-lesson in how to make a relatively simple dish to a stunning standard, its wonderfully moist meat offset with crisp skin and a classic, creamy, garden-fresh garnish. Fish is gently, rather than robustly, treated, so a fricassée of Jersey Royals, broad beans and samphire does wonders for a slab of sea trout, and the closer might be a garnished cheese course, perhaps Fourme d'Ambert with pear chutney and walnuts, or an unexpectedly Italian excursion into the territory of orange pannacotta with candied kumquats and biscotti.