The wot Rooms? Called something most of us can't pronounce, let alone decipher without an Oxbridge degree, a pantechnicon is apparently the 19th-century word for a removal vehicle - "man with a van" to you and me. Blimey, even before I clocked the SW1 postcode I knew this place was super posh. Downstairs is Belgravia's idea of a gastropub: civilised chitter chatter echoed round what looks like a conservatory crossed with a smart wine bar. The upstairs restaurant's vintage light fittings and air of quiet expensive elegance make you feel like you've wandered into someone's drawing room. But our lovely jokey waiter gave us a warm welcome.

We were also surprised by the reasonable prices. The menu was even a bit of a giggle. "Uber fry up!" squealed my pal, delighted by The Pantechnicon fish fingers (£7.50), fluffy fish-shaped nuggets that came with their own tiny copper saucepan of baked beans and a quail's egg. We were equally thrilled with a £7.50 starter of tortellini whose rich butternut filling was offset with crunchy hazelnut butter. One duff note was my dry, over-flaked smoked haddock and salmon pie, which had seemed a bargain at £8.50 until I realised it was mainly potato. But my friend's organic salmon fillet with yogurt and feta dressing (£12.50) was melt-in-the-mouth.

Puds are a must. My £7.50 Earl Grey Tea Cup was a dove-grey concoction served in a cup with condensed milk foam. And a dark chocolate marquise (£7.50) with honeycomb was described by the friend as "superior liquid Crunchie bar". Perhaps it's aptly named after all - I want to move in myself.

LARUSHKA IVAN-ZADEH