Boisdale of Belgravia

I hadn’t been to the Belgravia branch of Boisdale for around three years. You see, the last time I went I had the worst date of my life. Not one to judge someone for their job title, I took an Exotic Credit Trader at Barclays Capital to dinner for what should have been a stonking night out. But it all went wrong at the wine. Faced with not so much a wine list but what can better be described as a leather bound encyclopaedia of vintages, I asked my companion if she had a preference – she said she did not. “Red or white?” I asked. She said red. I ordered a bottle of Sancerre Rouge, described in the book as “showing a great finesse, the tannins soft and elegant.” Classy, I hoped she’d think. I hoped wrong. I tasted the wine, it was fine. She tasted the wine, pulled a face and blurted “Eurgh, I can’t possibly drink that, it’s not full-bodied enough.” Stunned, not quite sure how to react or what to do, I watched as she ordered her own glass of wine. Vulgarity may be no substitute for wit, but all I could do was curse. I pretended to need the loo, got up, walked past the bar to pay for my wine and escaped from the restaurant.

Last Friday, I went back with my girlfriend. And, wow, what a night! The food is fantastic – we had Colston Bassett Stilton ravioli (rich and warm), Hebridean handpicked crab (fresh and light), Rabbit and Scottish girolles pie (creamy and tender) and Sirloin steak on the bone with béarnaise sauce (proper steak, just how it should be). But the greatest triumph, the truest charm of the place, was first a foot stomping piano player who assaulted the keys with tunes such as Don’t Get Around Much Anymore and then a New Orleans style quartet blasting out numbers like When You’re Smiling. The place was alive, oozing, buzzing, teeming with atmosphere. Restaurants like this are what makes living in a big city worth all the hassle; the overcrowding, the overpriced rent. Who cares if it was raining outside, if the District line was partially suspended?

Top food, top music, top company. And the wine? We drank a roaring full-bodied Sangiovese di Romagna.

15 Eccleston Street London SW1W 9LX