Telephone: 020-7608 3220
Address: 63 Clerkenwell Road, London EC1
Rating: 17/20

I can't think why I haven't reviewed Gaudí before. Heaven knows, it's been there long enough, just down the road from the office, convenient, comfortable, classy and weird.

It's difficult to know what is weirder, the fact that the restaurant is woven so tightly into a nightclub complex that it's difficult to know where one begins and the other ends (actually, they both end, as you might say, in the same set of lavatories); or the restaurant decor, which pays a notional homage to the great Tarragona architect and his passion for natural forms, but which, in fact, looks as if it was constructed by a Disney cartoonist out of the jumble of a witch's broom cupboard. There is a lot of twiggery - plaster, metal and natural - and a sodding great airconditioning duct snaking its way across the ceiling. The lighting is eldritch gloom, and the walls are hung here and there with very jolly paintings of a vaguely vaginal cast. And in the heart of this welter of image and reference is the kitchen, open for all to see, and bright and busy as can be.

Well, make what you can of all that. Thorogood and I rather liked it. It has a certain madness to it, and you couldn't very well mistake it for any other restaurant in London.

The food is equally individual, and Spanish in origin - not Spanish Spanish, echt Spanish, Spanish of Navarra, Castille, Valencia and Catalonia, but the Spanish of a highly original and skilled Spanish chef, Nacho Martinez.

At least, I am guessing that you won't find Gran Duque (some kind of Spanish firewater) infused foie gras on grilled peach with a citrus syrup; or red mullet with a mosaic of vegetables filled with Jabugo ham; or crepes stuffed with scallops, cauliflower purée and mussels in a smoked paprika vinaigrette on every menu in Madrid, Barcelona or Zaragoza.

In the event, Thorogood and I had none of those dishes. Instead, I made it a cod day with Catalonian-style salt cod with baby chicory, pickles vinaigrette and salmon eggs, then grilled cod with deep-fried squid, potato purée, spinach and mixed veg in a dried pepper sauce. Thorogood was altogether more expansive, with a Pata Negra ham salad with Manchego cheese mousse, quince paste, walnuts, figs, cheese sauce and balsamic sherry dressing, followed by roast suckling lamb shoulder with sweetbreads, sautéed potatoes, pea purée and cream of carrots.

As you can see, Señor Martinez does not go for the simple effect or rustic purity. He builds dishes that are not so much complex as multi-faceted. They work as much through contrast as through reconciliation. The salt cod was a lovely, sparkling first course. The fish was flaked, and the flakes had a certain firmness that comes through from the salting. Mixed with diced chicory, and set up with a beautifully judged dressing, it made for an surprisingly light and elegant mouthful.

Thorogood's salad, on the other hand, was rather the reverse, in that it was full of rich, fruity and salty flavours. Something different unfurled with each mouthful - the velvety ham, the soft mousse, the juicy fragrance of quince and so on - or that's what Thorogood said, and I believe her. She was tentative when she started the dish, and zealous by the time she had finished.

I removed the sweetbreads, which rather offended her sense of delicacy, from her plate of suckling lamb, and that was the last look-in that I got. But she told me that there was a beguiling range of delicate, seasonal flavours; that the lamb was as tender as the night; that the creaming of the vegetables acted like sauces; and that it was a pity that there weren't more potatoes. My forgiving mood was made possible by my next course, a large and impeccably cooked piece of cod, which broke up into glistening , pearly plates, set off by curls of crunchy squid, a high-grade mash and the autumnal smoky heat of the pimenton sauce.

Of course, there were puddings. We were in so deep, another course of Senor Martinez's cooking could only add to the pleasure of lunch. So we had a Catalonian-style custard with various nobs on and a crepe filled with creamed rice, caramelised pistachio and orange sauce.

The bill was £85.75. That included a bottle of wine, a glass of sherry, some water - the usual rigmarole. I would say that's a medium-high price range for some very fine cooking. It does get cheaper - £12.50 for two courses, £15 for three at lunch - and remains just as good; the grilled cod dish came off the daily menu. I am still mystified why it took me so long to get round to rating Gaudí. I won't make that mistake again.

· Open Mon-Fri, 12 noon-2.30pm; Mon-Sat, 7pm-1.30am. Menus: Lunch, £12.50 for two courses, £15 for three. Wheelchair access (no WC).