Telephone: 020-7590 9999
Address: 3 Yeoman's Row, London SW3
Rating: 15/20

'Ooh, very Maigret," said Lucas as he sat down. It's true that the Parisienne Chophouse is a delicious recreation of one of the smaller brasse-ries of some imagined Paris of yesteryear, although, if my memory serves me correctly, the great detective preferred something slightly scruffier and low-life than this polished exercise in noshtalgia. Checkerboard floor (an uncanny recreation of Gary Rhodes's trousers in tiles), booths and banquettes, moquette and mirrors, posters and pastiche, and peculiar twinkly chandeliers like Christmas tree decorations from Woolies. Even the waiters are French; so French, indeed, that there was the odd hiccup in communication.

The Parisienne Chophouse is the latest offering from the indefatigable Marco Pierre White, whose passion for French culinary heritage is such that he refuses to let it be sullied by contact with the real thing. He has, famously, never been to France. The name of the place reflects this curious ambivalence. If you want to get seriously deconstructionist for a moment, you might to examine why the female "Parisienne" is yoked to the very British and very male notion of a chophouse. The brutal superiority of the English over the French? Or possibly the subtle influence of the French woman over the British male. Enough of such nonsense.

Even by the francophile menus of MPW's other establishments, that of the Parisienne Chophouse is a hymn to the classics of the Paris brasserie tradition, a tradition that most French brasseries have long since abandoned, to our sadness. When high-profile, stellar Paris chefs started setting up brasseries and bistros as a means of making real money, they came up with rather bloodless, refined, new dishes, rather than full-bloodied versions of old favourites. To judge by the fizzing business that the Parisienne Chophouse was doing at lunchtime a bare few days into its official existence, White has accurately gauged that our passion for chou farcie ¿ l'ancienne, frogs' legs ¿ la Parisienne, pojarski de saumon and gigot d'agneau de pauillac ¿ la Dijonnaise (ah, the poetry of all those "¿ la"s) quite matches his own.

Lucas and I were joined by Fifi La Touche, and between us we managed the snails ¿ la Bourguignonne, moules marini¿res with thyme, jambon persill¿, confit of duck ¿ l'alsacienne, ribeye of Aberdeen Angus, sauce B¿arnaise,

to which we added, out of common curiosity, a slice of quiche Lorraine and a parallel slice of tarte au chocolat amer, all of which give a pretty good cross-section of what the Parisienne Chophouse is setting out to achieve.

And, as is usual with an MPW enterprise in its early stages, it achieves a great deal - perfectly made kirs; luscious quiche gently smoky with poitrine de porc fum¿; sweet mussels, heady with fresh thyme added at the end; gentle jambon made fresh with loads of parsley; heroically hedonistic chocolate tart.

Lucas said that his c¿te de veau was tip-top, though I thought it less than generous. My ribeye steak was okay, nothing more, although the sauce B¿arnaise with it was an absolutely 22-carat cholesterol humdinger. Less acceptable were my green salad, which was oversalted, and Fifi's escargot Bourguignonne, which was devoid of seasoning. She complained that her confit of duck ¿ l'alsacienne was slightly deficient in character, but I think she was being rather unfair. So unfair, indeed, that I finished it off for her.

All in all, the Parisienne Chophouse got off to a pretty stylish start. There were one or two divertingly audible exchanges between kitchen staff and waiters, and there was the odd moment when the service looked a touch strained, but none of this was surprising given the fact that the place had opened only a couple of days beforehand. No doubt by the time this is published, MPW will have the place ship-shape and Bristol-fashion.

This charming exercise in ¿ la recherche des plat perdus has its price, however - £96, to be exact, or £32 each, for the grub. We also drank some well-advised C¿tes du Rh¿ne from Guigal at £19.50 a bottle, from a fairly ripely priced list. Then again, we did have one extra course, the quiche, although only I had a pud. We also spent £7.50 on veg, and ... what's this? "1 lunch menu, £9.95." The blighters have overcharged me. I must get back into the habit of checking the bill more carefully at the time. Mind you, £9.95 for two courses at lunch represents pretty good value.

· Open Lunch, all week, 12 noon-2.30pm (Sun, 4pm); dinner, all week, 5.30-11pm (Sun, 10pm). Menus Lunch and pre-theatre (5-7pm), £9.95 for two courses; Sunday lunch, £13.50 for three courses. All major credit cards. No wheelchair access.