The Ledbury

Brett Graham's decision to leave his native Australia and head for these shores is London's gain and Oz's loss. The fact that on arrival he secured a job at The Square (see entry) under Philip Howard was a sign of his blossoming talent, a talent unleashed on the dining public with the opening of The Ledbury in partnership with Howard and business partner Nigel Platts-Martin. The rest, as they say, is history. The Ledbury is now well and truly part of the London dining firmament, with a reputation that extends beyond W11. When the mercury rises in West London the on-street terrace comes into its own, diners protected from prying eyes by a high wall of plant boxes, while inside all is light, open and unfussy as is the antipodean way. It's smart, though, with well-spaced tables dressed up to the nines, plush leather seats, a mirrored wall which makes it seem more expansive than it really is, and a service team that add a fine-dining polish and plenty of charm. The menu is full of good ideas, creative without being outlandish, cooking skills are razor sharp, and everything looks beautiful on the plate. Roast foie gras with Granny Smith and Christmas pudding purée is a first course full of balanced flavours and displaying technical dexterity, likewise céviche of hand-dived scallops with seaweed, herb oil, kohlrabi and frozen horseradish. This is technically accomplished cooking of verve and vigour. Main-course crisp pressed suckling pig comes with white carrot, toasted grains and the pig's cheek cooked in Pedro Ximenez, while dessert might bring forth brown sugar tart with Muscat grapes and stem ginger ice cream. There are set lunch and tasting menus, and a vegetarian version of the latter that may well be the best in town. The wine list is quite some piece of work, too.