Ramsay's new enigma

Still, like every restaurant fan in town, I become ridiculously excited by news of another opening from this most visible of chefs. And I nearly always leave deflated.

Maze's kitchen may belong to Jason Atherton, a Ramsay protégé who has done time at Spain's legendary El Bulli among other impressive CV name-drops, but the shadow that looms large over the whole operation is undoubtedly Big Sweary Gordon's.

It has the same slick, over-produced look, the same eager-to-please, startled-rabbit staff and same sense of corporate soullessness as his other outlets (I make honourable exceptions of Marcus Wareing's Savoy Grill and the eponymous Chelsea branch).

Ramsay is particularly weak on informality. Whenever he attempts it - the Boxwood Café and now here - it comes across as stiff and inappropriate, like Neil Hamilton having fish lobbed at his head on the new Johnny Vegas show. The Ramsay empire also borrows ideas like a magpie. Maze comes on like a hybrid of current New York hotties: lollipop puddings like davidburke & donatella; mini dishes like wd-50 and Per Se; yadda yadda.

The L-shaped space, carved out of the Marriot Hotel, is awkward. No expense has been spared but little impact is made. Upper and lower levels are partitioned off by massive glass screens tricked out with maze motifs, stealing the opportunity to catch the buzz. Not that, on our visit, there was any.

But the food was fabulous. There's a conventional â¡ la carte but you're encouraged to order from a long list of bijou dishes - six to eight dishes each, we were advised - to create your own kind of tasting menu.

Aha, that explained the curious cutlery arrangement: face down in their own little holders to be re-used. Saves on the washing up.

This is a fiercely ambitious undertaking that massively increases the kitchen's workload, especially since the cooking is so intricate. Atherton pulls it off.

I'll keep what might otherwise be an impossibly lengthy list to highlights: a silky terrine, where foie gras had been interlaced with slenderest slivers of smoked eel, the fish's pungency having the curious effect of deepening the luxury of the liver; sweet discs of scallop roasted into little bonbons with the subtlest suggestion of Eastern spicing, a slick of light cauliflower purée and a pool of peppered, honeyed raisin adding an almost dessert-like richness.

Then there was the squab breast with the texture of chocolate fondant, its livery gaminess balanced with spiced celeriac and a date and bacon 'sandwich'; and a delicate but deeply flavoured emerald green risotto of peas, broad beans and sorrel sexed up with the earthy funk of grated truffle.

A luscious parfait of peanut butter came sandwiched between the lightest nut biscuits with cherry jam. Gorgeous. But those lollipops - green tea, apparently - looked like cuckoo spit and tasted like Glade PlugIn.

Ramsay's great talent is, well, nurturing talent. He inspires devotion, even greatness. But until he manages to inject some brio into his restaurants - giving his chefs the kind of environment that reflects their passion - places like Maze will remain the preserve of the list-ticking gastro tourist. You'll go once - been there, done that - but you won't be in a tearing hurry to return.

A meal for two with wine, water and service costs about £150. Maze, 10-13 Grosvenor Square W1. Tel: 020 7107 0000. Tube: Bond Street

Maze Grill
Grosvenor Square, London, W1K 6JP