Malt Dining

Up the old staircase, past the vivid slashes of modern art hung from rough brick work, Malt feels like a clubby, Old World secret. Not stuffy or staid but playing, perhaps, with the classics. Natural light pours in through giant windows, thick exposed wooden beams soar overhead and at times a piano player tickles the ivories. Yet it never feels like pastiche or parody. The obvious care taken with the menu helps. A classic such as winter's soubise fish pie arrives steaming and bubbling and dizzying with the rich aromas wafting from under a jaunty golden crust. In summer, lighter options take over, such as the confit of octopus and chorizo, where balance is all; earth and sea, light and dark, herb and spice all settled on the plate with flawless poise. The bar downstairs roars with life as night falls and drinkers in the attic restaurant are not forgotten with some lovely, thoughtful options on the wine list and especially by the glass.