This old Kensington fave used to be decent, if slightly dull. It was always crying out for a facelift and, I have to say, I’ve rarely seen a more triumphant job.

The “Place” is unrecognisable. The sleek dark chocolate interior chimes an ideal note between designer chic and conservative cosiness. Twinkly candle lights suggest romantic dates, sharp white tablecloths suggest crisp work dinners and the entrance’s stunning fibre-optic chandelier looks like a deep sea urchin is hovering delicately from above. It’s all frightfully grown-up, but miraculously non-snooty.

As for the modern British food, it was a total dream. At £35 for three courses, it’s a steal given that head chef Tristan Welch is from Marcus Wareing’s Michelin-starred Petrus. And you can totally taste the difference. The love, care and attention to detail is faultless. Poured from a tiny copper pan, my date’s nettle soup was imaginatively paired with iced horseradish.

My starter, smoked mackerel, arrived on a snug mattress of toast that I hogged all to myself, while my braised Shetland salmon main, with butterfly wings of artichoke, was so light I thought it would float off my plate. Given the show-stopping presentation of everything else, the date’s roast pork belly with apple sauce felt like a big plateful of yellowness.

But the lightly crisped apple Charlotte with scrumptious home-clotted cream truly deserved its description as “classic”. Yet, best of all was the complimentary pre-dessert: an ambrosial vanilla crème with a smashing caramel crisp soldier not only came served inside a real egg shell, but inside an individual silver egg cup. Bliss with a teaspoon.