Once upon a time, wine bars were just the ticket for a civilised drink and a modest meal. For a decade or so, there was one on every corner. Not any more. As wine became democratised, with pubs selling rocket-fuel chardonnay by the bucketful, all but a few wine bars shut up shop.

A few years ago, Kensington Church Street boasted one called Jimmy’s, a bit of a dive in a dark cellar, but still an alternative to pubs and hotels. Since it closed, there has been nowhere to drink wine in the vicinity, unless you fancy the rustic, ladylike tone of Le Pain Quotidien in Young Street, strong on quiches and leaves, not so hot on the carte des vins, selon moi.

Now, on the site of the unlamented Mediterranean Kitchen, there has just opened this hi-tech revision of what a wine bar can be. The enterprising owner, Thor Gudmunsson, is Icelandic. As a business student at INSEAD near Paris he developed a plan with a fellow student for launching micro-brewery English pubs in France as a class exercise. Then, in 1993, they decided to do it for real.

Frogpubs (motto: honi soit qui peu y boit) started in Paris, where there are now four branches, with more in Bordeaux and Toulouse. Gudmundsson sold out, opportunely, three years ago and, evidently, didn’t put all his money in Icelandic banks.

The Kensington Wine Rooms, created with his business partner Richard Okroj, is Gudmundsson’s first British venture. Its USP is its array of Enomatic wine machines, previously seen in only a few bars and shops — partly because they cost £8,000 each — rather more than the average corkscrew. The Wine Rooms has five, allowing 40 wines to be served in perfect condition by the glass — and you can if you want buy a cash card that allows you to self-dispense them. The wines begin at modest prices, with a very appetising, green and fruity Trebbiano Garganega, Ponte Pietro 2008 white at £2.75 for 125ml or £3.75 for 175ml, or £14.95 a bottle.

There is plenty to explore. We particularly liked a refined St Nicolas de Bourgeuil, Frederic Mabileau 2007 (£5.25 for the smaller glass). You can certainly have a high old time here, tasting and discussing.

So that’s the delightful drinking sorted. All the wines can also be bought by the bottle and for takeaway — but this isn’t a place to hurry away from. The rooms are thoroughly pleasant: spacious in feel, all dark wood, leather, reddish damask banquettes, good light and no excessive decoration.

The big surprise here is that the food is good value too. The lunch specials — £12.50 for two courses, £14.50 for three — change daily and are a complete bargain, although the à la carte menu is fairly priced too (starters £5.25-£7.50, mains £11-£19.50).

Over two lunches, everything we tried was good, starting with a generous serving of bread, both sourdough and walnut, with lots of deep-green and aromatic olive oil, for just £1.50. Tap water is brought unasked in a pleasing carafe as well.
Two big Portobello mushrooms made a substantial and satisfying starter, baked with lots of tangy goat’s cheese, pine-nuts, spinach, breadcrumbs and diced red onion — completely straightforward, just what you’d want to enhance a good glass.

The cooking here has a fresh, Mediterranean approach. When we asked our exceedingly French waiter, Baptiste from Versailles, who the chef was, he replied that he was from Bulgaria — almost, as it might be, from Barcelona. More strength to his Bulgarian elbow, I say.

From the mains, a deconstructed salade Niçoise was highly enjoyable too — with a large, thin fresh tuna steak, pleasingly pink inside, briney anchovy fillets and a halved soft-boiled egg, all nicely arranged with an enjoyable salad. Slow-cooked shoulder of lamb was served off the bone, in a timbale shape and not at all fatty, accompanied by a generous plateful of char-grilled, balsamic-dressed vegetables. Eating well here feels like eating healthily.

It’s hard to find a fault. The Kensington Wine Rooms re-invents the wine bar just about ideally, I’d say. So thoughtful of them to open so near the Evening Standard, too.