Deep in a warren of pretty mews, fronted by a horticultral display fit for the chelsea flower show, this is an up market pub that would rather be a restaurant.

On the night we visited it was completly full, and we were the only people not eating. Even the blokes at the bar had plates in front of them. Food is chalked up on the board, and choices on our visit included the likes of char-grilled swordfish and roast boneless quails.

For a place that still feels resolutely pubby - big bar area, lots of stripped pine, pub type seating - albeit a little flouncy, prices are high. While the uniformed staff left us to enjoy pints of hand pumped Bombardier, we couldn't help feel guilty we weren't eating or hadn't partaken of the studied ranks of Bollinger standing guard over the bar.