Quality and quantity at a chic City joint

Yet this high-ceilinged, stylishly minimal joint - all black and cream - is anything but fusty. Elegantly potent cocktails are a key item on the agenda - explaining the surprisingly youthful population at the buzzing bar.

Mixed with a superlatively judged splash of Hine Antique XO cognac, my Mercer Champagne cocktail (£15) got me as zesty as a lawyer on bonus day. Non-alcoholic options are called "chauffeur's choice", which got the date cringing, but frankly if you can read the wine list without blanching you can probably afford your own driver.

Still, choose bottles wisely (or peruse the two whole pages of wines by the glass), stick to tap water and the Mercer won't leave you bankrupt. And it certainly won't leave you hungry.

My warm salad of dense, top-quality black pudding with irritatingly undercooked poached egg (£9) was the kind of salad I approve of - generous lashings of protein with only a hint of lettuce leaf. The same could be said for my date's ruddy, rosemarycured Scottish smoked salmon with salmon caviar (£8.50). Next was the Mercer Pie (£14.75). No namby-pamby job this.

Proper pastry, huge hunks of rump steak and a London Porter Ale sauce that required a spoon - and a surreptitious belt loosening - to do it justice.

The date's perfectly pink-in-the-middle braised wild hare with bacon (£17.50) had him licking his chops and mopping up every last bite.

A huge rhubarb and apple crumble (£6.25) was as fruitily full-bodied as any wine, while my Black Forest trifle with sour kirsch cherries and chocolate flakes left me content as a fat cat who'd got the cream.

The Mercer
Threadneedle Street, London, EC2R 8AY