“One passes by the graveyard so often that sooner or later one falls into it.” Russian proverb.

And an obvious risk walking to this place, along Harrow Road from Kensal Green Tube station, alongside the giant cemetery that gave G K Chesterton the punchline of his poem The Rolling English Road, about the joys of drunken wayfaring: “For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen/ Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green.”

In the dining room of this swaggering establishment, the funereal theme continues, with a bit of a Miss Havisham atmosphere and graveyard angels looking down on you. Not on the plate, though. In both price and delivery, this is an ambitious restaurant, more clubby than pubby.

Indeed, the new chef, 25-year-old Maxime Le Van, used to be head chef at Club Gascon (which no doubt explains the extreme duck starter on offer, “duck tartare”. Which we ducked. Sorry. Next time.)

Half a dozen organic Poole Harbour oysters, big, salty rocks served raw on a bed of ice (£9.50), came three ways: Japanese, with soy, ginger and a bit of weed, delicious; with a punchy tomato sauce, Bloody Mary style, pretty good; and with Guinness-flavoured jelly, obviously meant to be a fun rendition of oysters with Black Velvet, not so nice, leaving a bitter aftertaste. Here was lots of mouth action for few cals, anyway.

Smoked mackerel and Drambuie paté (£6.50), served in a Kilner jar with good toasted sourdough, was moist and flavoursome with a sweet tang to it, although a little seemed to go a long way.

Sea bream (£15.50) was a big, well-cooked fillet, salty and buttery, accompanied by half a dozen excellent gratinated little clams and some broccoli florets and confit cherry tomatoes, oozing into a coulis. On the side, some mashed potato (£2.95) was also incredibly rich and buttery, perhaps in homage to Le Van’s time working at L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon, which boasts the most sumptuously unhealthy potato purée it’s possible to concoct.

Organic salmon with a pistachio crust (£15) was an oddity, the dish tasting peculiarly sweet and, in the end, cloying. The constant quest for high impact evident in the cooking here seems sometimes to go too far — although a Pear Belle Hélène (£5.50) was simple and classic, the sleek pear splayed out neatly, without any needless spicing, perked up instead by a good blackcurrant sorbet.

The wine list, although opening with an Argentinian malbec at £13.95 and Chilean chardonnay at £14.95, reaches dizzy heights, listing three fine 1966 clarets (Cissac, Lafon-Rochet, Brane-Cantenac, £70, £90, £100, respectively). It’s no surprise that there’s an accomplished wine waiter, not so often seen down the old Dog and Duck. Service throughout is speedy and likeable.

Having booked for 7.30pm, only on arrival were we told that we had to hand the table back at 9.30pm, by which time the next eager punters were milling around in the entrance. Paradise by Way of Kensal Green, a slick, impressive operation, is the destination of choice for the area, dependably delivering a thoroughly good time. Once you’ve got past the graveyard.