Telephone: 020-7010 8600
Address: 13-15 West Street, London, WC2

It was a perfect martini. It's not often you can say that these days. There are dozens of alchemists - they used to be called mixologists until last week, and plain barmen before that - who can blend up garish concoctions designed to strangle your tastebuds before blowing off the top of your head, but few who can master the sublime simplicity of the silver bullet. The secret lies not so much in the exact proportions of spirit to vermouth, but in the temperature at which it is served. A 22-carat martini has to be served just above arctic chill. The glass should be clouded with condensation. The first sip should send a shiver through the lip shortly before the alcohol sends a shiver of pleasure through the brain and blood begins to flow again in the eyeballs. Suddenly I saw West Street in a whole new light.

West Street has been touted by some as a challenge to The Ivy, next door. It is nothing of the sort. While The Ivy has that clubbish, very male veneer of civility that distinguishes the minor public school notion of class, and which is so appreciated by aspirant, self-congratulatory, self-adulatory media minions, West Street has the style, polish and wit of unisex meritocracy. It is the apotheosis of the restaurant philosophy advanced so successfully by Mirror Image Restaurants (prop. Chris Bodker) in Avenue and Circus before they bought the Kensington Place Group, including the talents of the peerless Rowley Leigh, quondam guiding culinary spirit at KP, and now culinary guru for Mirror Image Restaurants.

It might be argued that this is not the kindest time to launch a major new diner, one that has a bar in the basement and can seat 160 eager eaters (assuming that there are 160 of this endangered species left) spread over two floors, not to mention having a private room for 25 and three "guestrooms". This makes it a substantial operation by any standards, costly to set up even before you splash out several million quid on plate glass, granite, stainless steel, sexy lighting, ebony backdrops, Severin chairs and black leather. If that sounds a bit forbidding, I suppose it is.

Mind you, there is a lunchtime and pre-theatre (5.30-7.15pm) menu which promises two courses for £11.50 and three for £14, which is pretty good for metropolitan pricing, particularly as the line-up of dishes on that day included rump steak, seared tuna and tagliatelle with chanterelles.

There is an Italian cast to the menu. It's not really Italian Italian, more Italian-effect, lightly brushed with wood-fired oven, pasta, borlotti beans, mozzarella, al cartoccio, semifreddo and the rest, filtered through the thoroughly classical French taste of Leigh. It's kind of Kensington Place al'Italiano, and if you like the KP style, then you should like West Street, too.

Personally, I liked my lentil salad with eggs, olives, peppers and smoked anchovies (although it is scarcely a radical, or even Italian, dish). It looks simple enough, but it's still a tasty little number if all the ingredients are top drawer. Serenissima tucked away an equally stylish arrangement of salami, carpegna ham, radicchio from Castelfranco (the creamy one with the red spots), green beans and olives, before tackling veal kidney and chanterelles. The kidneys were impeccably cooked and generously heaped.

I had a grilled partridge, which was an unusual treatment to give this delicate bird. It took to it very well, in part because judicious hanging brought out its flavour. On the other hand, it came with pine kernels and, frankly, these I could have done without. Pine kernels are fast becoming this year's pointless ingredient. They tend to mealiness when heated, and did not contribute much, as far as I could see, to the splendour of the dish. Still, my pudding, cannoli - Sicilian brandy snaps without the ginger or the brandy - stuffed with a light ricotta and cream mixture zingy with lemon, was splendid.

All this, plus a few veg extras, came to £56.75. The full bill, in case you're interested, was £107.15, which included a bottle of seductive Dolcetto and other liquid items. These are early days for West Street and like, The Providores and Eyre Bros reviewed recently, it will take six months or a year to really settle down and find its own rhythm. Given the past form of Mr Bodker, Mr Leigh and the fabulous Marion Scrutton, queen of the front of house, that should mean West Street will end up as a seriously smooth and smoothly serious addition to the London meeting and eating scene.

In the meantime, they are open for business, are charging proper money and so must be judged on that basis. There is a little way to go before the rest of the operation comes up to the standard of that martini.

· Open Mon-Sat, 12noon - 3pm; 5.30 - 12 midnight. Menus: Lunch and pre-theatre (5.30 - 7.15pm), £11.50 for two courses, £14 for three. All major credit cards. Wheelchair access and wheelchair WC.