Gazi

Where once stood the fine dining Press Club now stands Gazi, riffing on Greek street food. George Calombaris's menu merges high and low culture with his take on the souvlaki - battered confit duck and poached quince, or red wine-marinated beef brisket with aioli, salad and fries in springy-soft charred flatbread - thoroughly deserving instant-classic status. The pigeonhole-defying menu mixes rustic salads (cuttlefish with radicchio and garlic dressing), jazzed-up standards (saganaki with sticky-sweet cumquat-mustard sauce), and time-honoured taverna dishes such as spit-roasted pork belly clad in textbook crackle on a generous swipe of garlicky apple puree. Pavlova - a smash-it-yourself meringue dome hiding lemon sorbet, pomegranate seeds and musk sticks - injects an old-school Greek note to this very new-school Greek restaurant, with its mirror-tiled Eurotrash bar, hammy Eurovision soundtrack and undulated ceiling of terracotta pots. The noise levels won't suit everyone, but Gazi undeniably nails the zeitgeist.