Telephone: 020-7627 2468
Address: 14 Clapham Park Road, London SW4
Rating: 17/20

Thyme got the gong for the Best New Restaurant at this year's Tio Pepe/Carlton London Restaurant Awards. As one of the judges, it was a bit embarrassing to have to admit that I had not been to the place, and so ceded responsibility to my more virtuous colleagues for judgment on that category. As they all spoke glowingly of the restaurant, I thought it only right and proper that I should potter along and take a look, which I did in the company of Tod and Ted.

It's a small spot on that complicated piece of road around Clapham Park. In style, manner, bustle, friendliness, indeed, in everything but food, it declares itself to be a neighbourhood restaurant. The noise levels are kept pretty high by the absence of any fabric to absorb the clatter of human voices. Large rust-coloured abstracts break up the whiteness of the walls, the brilliance of which is subdued by intelligent lighting. But the food is highly ambitious for a crowd of eaters who, I would guess, would be terribly happy with a properly prepared T-bone steak and chips and crème brûlée, to judge by the number of men wearing shirts with squared patterns and women in dove-grey and cream.

First off, the menu has a novel structure. There are five sets of dishes, each set reasonably priced - £6, £7, £8, £9, £10. The sets are in ascending order of richness, according to our waitress. The helpings, she said, were quite small - the size of a first course - so the idea is that you order as many dishes as you think you can manage from any of the sets; three courses are recommended, with pudding as a fourth to fill the odd gap here and there.

It may seem complicated, but in practice it's pretty straightforward, and it means you can indulge in quite a few of the dishes that tempt. But the really sensible thing about this pricing is that it offers the eater various points of financial entry. In theory, you could nip in for just ravioli paysanne, smoked ham hock, mushroom consommé and truffle, and nip away again having forked out £6 plus a tip.

However, that is not my way, nor, indeed, the way of Tod and Ted, and between us we managed crisp fillet of mackerel, beetroot jelly and horseradish cream (£6); one ravioli as above (£6); terrine of foie gras and confit cod, reduction of Banyuls and trompette mushrooms (£7); honey-glazed pork belly, sauté of scallops, haricots blancs; warm salad of duck confit, tarte fine of endive, celeriac remoulade ; tortellini of crab, lemon thyme vichyssoise, fromage blanc and confit tomato (all £8); rump of lamb, confit shoulder, turnip tatin, lamb vinaigrette, crackling (£10). And three puddings, at £6.50 each.

The dishes were an appealing combination of the ambitious and the earthy. Beetroot - earthy, even in jelly form; horseradish - definitely earthy; mackerel' the marine equivalent of earthy. Presentation - refined: virtuous circle of jelly; neat, glittering parallelogram of fish on circle of beetroot discs and leaves of purple basil; streamlined quenelle of horseradish. Now, I would have liked a bit more concentration in the jelly and a bit more heat from the horseradish, but there was no denying the accomplishment of the concept and the panache of its presentation.

Ditto cod and foie gras, not the most obvious turf 'n'surf variant. It came out as an elegant square with cod on top, liver at the bottom, and a thin layer of lentils in between. It was as elegant to eat as it looked, a careful contrast in textures, the delicate sweetness of the fish merging surprisingly well with the softer, slightly huskier foie gras. The honey-glazed belly pork was a firm, dense square of meat beneath a thin layer of crisp skin lacquered with honey, not quite so meltingly tender as I have had elsewhere, but the mellowness of its flavour fused with the sweet slice of scallop, with the bland graininess of the haricots blancs providing a critical contrast. Each dish was a like a Nicholas Hilliard miniature, full of exquisite details, finely wrought and cleverly integrated. The smallness of the scale did not diminish the impact of each dish. Indeed, the flavours were forceful and well focused and rich.

The conversation raged on about war, the curious nature of marriage, war, the curious state of marriage and war, the curious state of war and marriage, and much else besides as the roar of wellbeing at other tables crashed over us. The sensible, if not exactly thrilling wine list, provided a bit of humanitarian aid, in the shape of a bottle of rich, exuberant Alsatian riesling, and bottle of clonking Chinon, which I had chilled down, and a bottle of Macon Fuisse.

And then, as always, it came down to money - £190.60 to be precise. It will come as little surprise that drink played a not inconsiderable part - £106 in all; there were some odds and ends in addition to the three bottles. The food side of an exceptionally satisfying evening came out at £84.60, worth every penny, and more, in my view.

· Open Mon-Sat, 6.30-10.30pm (open for lunch from May 28) Menus £30 four courses, £55 for four courses, plus wine to match. All major credit cards.