Telephone: 020-8995 0382
Address: 1 Station Parade, Burlington Lane, Chiswick, London W4
Rating: 13.5/20

Openshaw did not have a good evening on the food front. His Spanish pea, roasted garlic, and caramelised onion soup went back largely untouched. "Water from the sink," was the kindest he had to say about it. He wrestled with a 10oz sirloin steak (why is steak exempt from decimalisation?), marinated in hoisin sauce, pan fried rare, plated with garlic, with roasted butternut squash, potato and parsnips, dressed with lemon butter, before admitting defeat.

There is, he said, rare and rare, and this was the far side of rare , or barely cooked. Whether or not you feel that hoisin sauce is going to add much to a fine piece of beef - and it was a fine piece of meat indeed - you assume that it will have seen something of the heat. Unless you go in for a steak tartare, then heat definitely brings out the best in beef, I like to think.

"Serves him right for ordering the safe options," said HSH. We were a party of four at Infuzion, a little, green-fronted neighbourhood eatery in leafy Chiswick, near the station. There was Openshaw, Xyris, HSH and myself, as discriminating and judicious a group as you could hope to eat with. In fact, it was HSH who had pointed us in the direction of Infuzion, as she had received word that it was worth investigating.

Fusion cooking has been in decline in recent years. Rather like cuisine nouvelle in its day, the novelty excited the febrile imaginations of too many chefs who had neither the taste nor the talent to understand the principles involved. So all manner of naff and nasty combinations were foisted on the unwitting public, who consumed it uncomplainingly in the name of fashion.

But there's only so much nonsense even the long-suffering British public will put up with. The fusion soufflé subsided, with the better ideas absorbed into the general melting pot that has become British cooking.

Infuzion has no truck with that kind of easy-going compromise: wok-fried kangaroo marinated in chilli and coriander, "plated with mixed leaf salad, crushed peanuts and spiced lemongrass dressing"; or, indeed, griddled aubergine marinated in sweetened spices with devilled nuts and a mixed leaf salad "tossed in lime and pepper dressing"; and chilli, lemongrass, coconut and turmeric broth of squid, chicken, cup mushroom, carrot and caramelised onion, served with steamed rice.

There were some decent ideas in all this. The squid and chicken broth may not have looked that interesting, but it was decently constructed and had well defined, if rather sweet, flavours. The turmeric, which can be a mugger of a spice, was decently low key, while the coconut milk gave soothing richness, the chilli sufficient edge to make the dish interesting. The rice helped to balance the protein and absorbed the liquid. But why add carrots, caramelised onion and mushrooms?

The kitchen understands the virtues of simplicity perfectly well, even if it tends to veer away from them like a startled horse. HSH had roasted chicken wings with hot chilli, soy and coriander sauce, which was direct and brisk. Chicken wings take well to this kind of treatment, and HSH and Xyris shared a copious plate of grilled polenta, with sun-dried tomatoes, butter and olives "drizzled with rocket pesto". It was eaten, it seems to me, with more duty than enthusiasm.

It seems characteristic of fusion restaurants to mention every ingredient that goes on to the plate. This may be considerate for those with allergies or dislikes, but it makes dish descriptions read like inventories rather than invitations.

In the case of the latter dish, the inventory was a compendium of every ingredient that was fashionable the day before yesterday: grilled polenta, sun-dried tomatoes, pesto, rocket, etc, etc, complete with a little light drizzling. Some of these can be interesting on their own, but all together? Muddled and blurred.

That's also what I thought of my griddled aubergine. The fruit was sweetish, as advertised, but the nuts just got in the way. The salad was amateurish in its construction and underdressed for the occasion. However, my faith in the future of Infuzion was rescued by a ding-dong coffee brownie, fudge sauce and Tia Maria.

I couldn't help feeling that the errors of judgment were those of innocence and enthusiasm rather than lack of ability. A number of the dishes would have been improved by removing a couple on the ingredients and concentrating of the essentials, but then would Infuzion be betraying its ideals? It's a poser.

HSH picked up the bill, but she assures me that it worked out at about £30 for two, including wine - a snip by London standards. Certainly, there was nothing on the menu for more than £15, and a couple of the main courses were in single figures. All in all, I feel uncomfortable about being ungenerous to a small, personable establishment, particularly at a time when big bucks are being poured into less worthy and ludicrously grandiose projects.

Actually, looking back at the evening, it was one of pleasure, diversion and entertainment, and that, really, is what eating out is all about.

· Open Tues-Sat, 6-11pm. Lunches available by prior arrangement (min of six people). All major credit cards. Wheelchair access (no WC).