We were lucky enough to be the only lunchtime diners or unlucky if you take an opposing view and crave company of others whilst dining. It didn’t matter to us being window side in such a cosy area, where we were able to view the world drifting by and were afforded undivided attention. I don’t know why we had delayed our visit to this 24 seater premises as they were established 8 years ago, except for the fact that they had a protracted closure as explained by SqM. The break did them no harm from the perspectives of service and kitchen skill as we were treated to some refined dishes from the set menu.

Ignoring the numbers game which I suppose they have to do in accordance with the limited accommodation, they concentrate on careful sourcing, well thought through dishes to perfectly presented plates of food which happen to taste great. We opted for the same dishes of silky sweetcorn veloute with chicken, followed by slow cooked pork belly with a small segment of vanilla poached pear which sat very comfortably alongside fennel, new potatoes, carrots and meat juices. My partner’s iced blackberry parfait with warm miniature apple doughnuts was exquisite – artistically, texturally and in taste. Their a la carte menu incorporates more exotic ingredients such as langoustine, scallops, or lobster, and for the carnivore quail, slow cooked rib-eye or lamb, which changes according to availability and season. Wine deserves mention – we chose a top notch bio-dynamic Gigondas. I only mention bio-d’ because I don’t recall quaffing such before and it was a classy, characterful Gigondas, but part of the ethos behind it sounds rather cerebral to me. All I know is that the taste warranted a £45 price tag and we were happy to part with £41 for two lunches.

W8 is refreshingly kitted out with a tad more interest than the formulaically bland décor of high end gastro-destinations. However, the hope was that the food would still do the talking. The attraction is the influence of high pedigree craftsman Phil Howard, but how would his recent protégé’ interpret cuisine on this appealing menu?

A simple looking plate of partridge ravioli with ceps served on melted onions was a well accomplished, delicious opener and I’d have happily eaten this as a main. My better half didn’t consume with quite such gusto, although his plate was void of remains. Rich, dark ox cheek perfectly soft was served with contrasting flat iron (my knowledge of meat cuts didn’t extend to this terminology, so somewhere around the shoulder was indicated). This was presented pink, properly rested and thinly sliced without a trace of blood, being essential as it rested beneath a superb quenelle of horseradish cream. Separately came the most comforting gravy like sauce to accompany the cheek which sat upon cabbage. Grouse, described as “slightly gamey” was somewhat more powerful, and this factor combined with the acidity of choucroute, meant that the dish required a carb’ other than the beetroot puree which was an inadequate counterbalance. (We obviously had the French perspective of slightly gamey as later another waiter used the adjective “very”, illustrating the dichotomy in staff opinions.) My partner didn’t grumble at all as I reneged on the deal of a swop half-way. Exchanging again after only a few mouthfuls, I was so pleased to be reunited with my gently yielding pieces of ox and…..that sauce.

Dry wit from our waitress who was polite and knowledgeable was more than one could ask for. The sommelier recommended a sensibly priced Lombardy wine which delivered exactly as described and worked well with our choices. I can almost forgive them for not completely removing strings from the runner beans as the thin chips were spot on texturally and properly seasoned, but a mark has to be deducted for the inaccurate grouse description.

Skipping dessert, my eyes jumped to “Share of the Crop” on the back of the menu which was a novel touch. 24 hours’ notice normally required for ordering, but we asked if any mushrooms could be spared and delightedly came away with 200g of chanterelles plus some pleasurable food memories. Native lobster and lamb rump were also amongst the five or so options to take away. A smart performance which registered a big score on my taste senses means that I have to go back to sample belly of veal with polenta or one of the fish choices. The menu was seasonal with wild mushrooms featuring in many dishes – exactly why I like this time of year.

Considering the lack of decent restaurants in this locality, it is a shame that the Runnymede can’t produce something worthwhile. Over the years, I’ve attended functions, had lunch and lighter bites, none of which have been memorable. What one will always remember about this place is the beautiful riverside setting. An average establishment for dining which has such scope for improvement. Perhaps it is the lack of competition which results in this standard.

Comfort – good. Sedate – definitely not. But with “Crazy” in the name would one really expect a calm atmosphere? The quirky, miscellaneous décor is exceedingly busy and music was not background, though in no way did it interfere with our conversation. Having dined in the Thai section previously concluding that it was not good enough to repeat, it was time to visit the English restaurant, enticed in knowing that they now breed their own livestock and fowl.

Being a hotel, food in some form or another is served all day, so there is a lot to read. Even skipping breakfast list and lunch, appetisers will be found, followed by salads or starters and an extensive main course list, making it impossible to take in desserts til later. From a promising start for all four of us, we happily munched on Tuna tartare, an excellent classic French onion soup and equally good chicken liver salad with fabulous bacon pieces from home reared Gloucester’s with super fresh salad and a perfectly poached egg. Two bottles of Douro were excellent. Onwards to two different pies and a mixed grill of pork meats, and this is where discontentment set in. Three different complaints about pies, one having bacon to chicken ratio out of kilter; one with bone and some gristle and then the beef cheek not having been cooked down properly, so though it was soft it was also chewy. Dry pork chop and a cement-like rosti didn’t please one guest, but side orders were cooked correctly and most impressive of all, the tender young broad beans were devoid of skins.

Service, whilst pleasant and attentive enough, distinctly lacked knowledge. Good ingredients were used but sadly the treatment didn’t afford them justice, which is a shame because the prices are definitely City.

An antique trading spot is an intriguing setting where comfort is not foremost, especially if you are unlucky enough to be seated on one of the rickety wooden dining chairs from an eclectic period mix. Once, simultaneously under the control of Michael North, owner of The Nut Tree at Murcott and whose culinary ability is highly rated by bodies doling out awards, he was unable to keep a close enough eye here having failed to lift it’s food profile. Turbot on the bone where the flesh was not the main feature didn’t satiate and food just didn’t equate to Mr North’s standard. Staff were fairly well organised and of charming disposition. Since his departure, emphasis is now even less on food. It is closed in the evening other than for functions or private parties, having become more of a destination for lovers of antiques who may fancy lunch or afternoon tea, but a dining Mecca it is not to be.

A sudden change of plan brought us to this stunning part of Sussex. Period buildings naturally occupy beauty spots and this was no exception where we discovered an unpretentious statement of grand with the utmost comfort and warmth. The other surprise was to find ourselves dining at Camellia as The Pass wasn’t open for lunch.

Though intricately ornate and heavily oaked décor is not normally my style, I loved the way this place had been restored. Sensitive modern tweaks subtley augmented without tarnishing the period feel. We were first led to a classically styled lounge decked with hand-studded chesterfields and chandeliers, but this wasn’t sufficient to distract me from the sandwich selection being delivered nearby tempting me to ask for ‘a plate of the same please’, but our table was already waiting and we were soon shown through to the comfortably furnished dining room.

Quite an array of choices faced us, but I soon decided that it was a fish day. Duck with marmite soldiers was a novel idea, no twist except for presentation in a terracotta egg box; not my choice but apparently it was good, followed by fillet steak, also classified ‘good’. I enjoyed crab croquette with tempura squid and a sticky chilli dipping sauce. But, what came next for me was a refined example of bouillabaisse with cavernous depth of luxurious flavour put with unlikely but fabulous cajan gnocchi, and the obligatory gruyere croutons and rouille weren’t overlooked – I have had fish stews/soups around mainland Europe and closer to home, but this was in a class of its own. Also on offer was chicken chasseur, various cuts of grilled meats, fishcakes, home-smoked haddock or sausage and mash plus a few lighter options.

Everything about this place was substantial from the structure, giant heavy crockery and wooden serving boards to the portions served. Service was impeccable whilst relaxed, and our waiter provided some characterful input which made the experience all the more enjoyable. We asked to see The Pass, where two glorious kitchens were flanked on one side by a line of tables to accommodate I’d say about 20 diners and one day I intend to be one of them.

Winchester is the flagship and although I haven’t visited, I have walked to HdV in Henley on Thames countless times where we have had the good fortune to benefit from the best chefs in the group on rare occasions. Staff get shunted around the branches as needed resulting in peaks and troughs. We have been pleased to bring friends sometimes and at other times e.g. one New Year’s Day evening we were somewhat embarrassed.

For all the right reasons, I can recall a starter of sea trout and smoked salmon raviolo which was knockout. The fish encased in the most perfectly cooked wafer thin pasta was presented elegantly in a delicate butter sauce with a scattering of concasse tomatoes. The first time I ordered this dish it was of a standard to challenge any Michelin starred chef, but alas it wasn’t to be repeated. Menus on the whole sound good, and they have some decent ingredients to work with, but I would suggest ordering carefully by selecting the less ambitious sounding dishes (perhaps from the simpler classic choices) which tend to be more dependable. Wines can suit most wallets, and will often impress from a bank embracing worldwide options but predictably major on French. Food on the other hand is not as good value for the quality.

It’s so easy to pop into a Mr C’s not just because they are ubiquitous, but also because they’re open all hours….well nearly. This branch is definitely not chosen for good location and like Windsor, the cooking had historically been reasonably good, but the standard does vary, and especially from branch to branch. So my advice is avoid a cooked meal and stick to the cold combinations such as Foccacia with Prosciutto and marinated peppers or something equally as straightforward, but I’d hesitate to venture beyond the Insalate. I don’t like to knock that rotund man’s chain, but it is possible to get simple food wrong and it seems they’re becoming more capable of doing just that, though I would refuse to leave without making a purchase from the deli.

Faddy, no, but traditional yes in every way. Critics might defile this modus operandi, but I see nothing wrong with competently cooked Sunday lunch served in relaxed surroundings by accommodating staff – enjoyment doesn’t always have to encompass trendy, though I am the first to admit it can be such fun. This occasion was enhanced by the company of some good friends.

A little worn at the edges – as many are – this country house, set in pretty grounds pleasantly reflects the bucolic character of the region. A place for the VFM conscious, at under £20 per head for 3 courses which included a fine array of buffet style starters to satisfy the carnivore and those piscine inclined, although the veg lover may feel a tad deprived. Five main courses from which to choose could be followed by selecting from half a dozen puddings including unquestionably fresh fruits over which you could cast an eye before committing. Then to add to your decision process there was an adequate if slightly staid, help-yourself cheese board. One of the most sensibly priced wine lists to be seen [generally sub £100] plus a more modest and concise house list. Two bottles of Pomerol worked nicely for us.

I failed to find many reviews, but the few I did were ‘good’ and that just about fits. Could I have awarded 6.5 for F&D then I would have done…Not sure I am curious enough to find out whether the kitchen can successfully deliver the modern dishes that appear at other times, unless it proves to be a convenient bolt hole in future, then it would deserve fair consideration.

Beetle in the bread basket some years back I can just about forgive, but not the lack-lustre food that used to be served. The Orangery now under the superb hand of Adam Simmonds demanded investigation. Danesfield is in the league of venues where you expect the experience to be trimmed and decorated with style and substance, so how did lunch in the Orangery live up to this?

Adequate diversity of choice for all courses should please most. From five main courses, I chose turbot with aubergine caviar, whilst across the table roast beef was chosen. Aubergine features for flavour not appearance so naturally it sat beneath the fish – surrounding this was a vibrant circle of diced red and yellow peppers in a bright yellow sauce – saffron fragrance pleasingly wafted towards me as my plate was set down. The fish had been treated with great respect resulting in perfect texture, but flavours were smothered by saffron. As the waitress appeared to check satisfaction level, I was saved from the third forkful saying that the dish was dominated by the saffron, and could taste little else. Without hesitation, she offered an alternative. As I watched expensive ingredients destined for their sad fate, the guilt which had swept over me faded as I tucked into a fine example of an elegant, flavourful Sunday lunch style lamb with decent jus. By this time the (big) beef had just about disappeared but not without a little help from me. Although we had the latest booking, I didn’t dine completely alone as others arrived for afternoon tea – which looked an enticing treat and seemed very popular.

The setting is prized, the wines are good, as is service. Once the Orangery get all the dishes right Mr S will have achieved optimum influence in both kitchens. Incidentally, the Oak Room (listed on this website separately) is now called Adam Simmonds at Danesfield House, proving his culinary profile is one to be noted.

Staff here must be programmed to please. A heart-warming experience was had from the time I picked up the phone to reserve a table until the time we had lunched and were last to leave at 4.30p.m. I don’t know how to begin to describe the quirky décor of the dining area. To me it appeared that two or more people with contrasting styles compromised on the design – but not elsewhere. However, the ambience and service could not be bettered. Had the food not been so good, then we would still have relaxed and enjoyed the comfort of the room and the generosity of service. A very busy Wednesday lunch spoke volumes. If you don’t like detail, then give this place a miss because the food is intricate both in terms flavour and appearance. Oodles of style and substance is delivered from sweetbreads with candied walnuts to delicately spiced seafood. Having enjoyed starter so much I felt quite confident that my main would deliver – lamb is an unusual choice for me and even more so for the fact that it was billed as ‘Breast of lamb’ given that I have a big aversion to lamb fat, but it was the ‘crispy’ description that gave me the courage to go for it. Lamb done 3 ways (small canon slice included) was divine. Our Portuguese wine choice from a reasonable spectrum of internationals was another bonus. Desserts and petit-fours impressed too……what more need I say?

Who would have thought urban chic meets leafy Thames Valley setting – someone in Berkshire has been brave enough to have a go. Parking was challenging even at 6.30p.m., so when this Bar/Restaurant is full, restricted parking space must mean that even the most inventive drivers leave the island in search of a parking spot, then walk back across the hump of a single-file bridge. Someone has sunk serious money here which such a fabulous spot should be able to bear in what has to be the prettiest part of Maidenhead.

Split level design at ground level ensures that even diners at the rear of the room have a riverside view enclosed by glass balustrades which mirror the architectural glass window styling. Views from the first floor bar and balcony must be even better. Minimal décor is ‘beigey’ with ubiquitous wooden floor and similarly hued seating, but this ensures not to detract from the view. Wooden tables are set out comfortably with neat and simple place settings.

I fleetingly wondered taking first glance at the menu whether we’d been given one from a different season, seeing the heart-warming dish of daube of beef cheek with mash, but no, it was mid summer and I heard someone order it. Reading on I could see it was reasonably well thought out : beetroot salad and gribiche sauce, marinated tomatoes with basil panacotta, the omnipresent meat terrine (chicken & ham hock), carpaccio of beef with horseradish sauce or pea risotto and scallops or mackerel escabeche. I plumped for seasonal tomatoes and my partner opted for the risotto. A simple, colourful salad of well-marinated tomato varieties with pea shoots matched splendidly by heavily scented basil panacotta and a scattering of home-made crisps. Risotto was rich and very cheesy, but surprisingly didn’t quite overpower the seared scallops. Contentment welcomingly drifted over us both. We declined bread, but it arrived anyway after we’d finished our starter, but just in time for me to mop up the potent tomotatoey marinade juices.

After a promising launch, came rib-eye (offered with choice of classic sauces such as bordelaise or béarnaise plus others) and my man chose the peppercorn, which he said hadn’t been shown enough heat to temper it, but the steak itself was cooked to order, of acceptable quality with some OK chips, and all good enough to be washed down with some Valpolicella. I had been eyeing chicken (boring maybe – but the appeal was the wild mushroom sauce and creamed leek macaroni); samphire always tempts put here alongside sea-bream and Antiboise sauce (a coriander adulterated version of vierge, so I discovered). Whole plaice with caper beurre blanc may well have done the trick, but when turbot was announced as the ‘Special’ that’s what I chose. I seriously doubted the concoction in my mind but took the risk…….served with risotto, cabbage, pea puree and a sauce (including foie gras but undetectable and probably fortuitously so). All competently cooked, but proved to be a few too many ingredients which didn’t allow the turbot to shine – all flavours were good but two dishes were actually on the one plate. Chef would have done better to ditch the pea puree or scatter some peas through the finely shredded cabbage or the risotto and not served both on the same plate. Nevertheless I ate all except the creamy pea puree helped along by a cool Fleurie.

Not sure when they opened, but some staff training was on-going and one individual needed significant guidance. However, all were polite and apologetic for even the most minor mistake, so it’s certainly worth a 2 minute detour off the A4 if only for brunch or straightforward meal in the bar.

I don’t quite know what has gone amiss in the space of one year, but the most glorious aspect about this place is its location. So naturally not a soul dined indoors whilst the warmest weather prevailed. As we sat at our table I found the clean-looking yet sticky wooden table top slightly off-putting; it craved polish and/or a buff, so at least ice cold glasses wouldn’t stick.

No grumble about staff nor pace of service or presentation. A selection of interesting homemade breads boded well. The menu had been well composed offering dishes such as asparagus with crispy hen’s egg and wild boar salami. Fish featured as choices for both starters and mains, as did pork. Beef, poultry and lamb were also in the mix. Fresh egg pasta with watercress pesto was lacking punch and a good dousing of parmesan might just have managed to transform an otherwise bland starter.

Lamb rump was cooked to order and served with seasonal vegetables, so this main came up to the mark for one of us. Less care seemed to have been applied to a chicken and mushroom pie, an unfortunate feature of which was sinew and gristle (probably constituted about 20% of filling), though could not be faulted for flavour. We may be tempted to revisit but only if the weather were to be as kind, though indoors had been decked out to appeal.

Could Atul Kochhar match the subtle spicing of a lamb cutlet second time around, I wondered after booking a table at Benares? Most definitely….and not just spices were clever but textures too.

Softshell crab was a superb opening dish for me, as was rabbit which both I and my co-diner thought divine. Although lamb wasn’t chosen this time, Monkfish was recommended without falter and I was utterly pleased that it had been – the flavours lived on in my memory for longer than average. Steamed basmati rice separated like grains of sand running through fingers and was the best I had encountered. Duck main didn’t quite do it for me, but then that wasn’t my main course choice.

Décor was slightly suspect with plaster-of-paris panel design on walls, but otherwise a pleasant space, and with food this good, surroundings were of little consequence. Showing an interest in the food and the chef’s skill, we were asked if we would like to meet Mr Kochhar, which marked the occasion neatly. Compliments about his food were met with humble response and in that short encounter, he seemed like a pretty decent person who deserves the recognition he gets.

In 2010, considering we were in a Michelin starred Mayfair restaurant on a Tuesday evening, £120 (a la carte) for two people including a couple of glasses of wine, water and beer seemed pretty good value to me.

Unusual sounding morsels such as delectable carrot meringue sandwiching a foie gras filling gave us a clue to the excursion that would unfold as we perused the Sunday lunch menu.

A class act followed highlighted by a complimentary dish instigated by the Maitre D’ who had witnessed our deliberations on selecting a starter. Crispy succulent Chicken wing pieces, a spear of white asparagus and a dressing including broad bean flower with a light dusting of parmesan just sufficient to bring the whole thing elegantly together and send waves of delight across the senses.

How could all dishes sparkle and excite? Well, Pork and John Dory didn’t quite reach the same heights as the other three courses, but neither could they be faulted.

Something good seems to be going on with service in London restaurants lately as we have come across such affable waiting staff who seem happy, enthusiastic and ready to help, and no more so than here.

The recent elevation of this restaurant’s standing is so deserved, and the Antipodean crafting brings along some frivolity without any loss of sophistication.