Murano

Angela Hartnett's Murano fits its Mayfair environs to a nicety. It's a civilised, expansive, lushly carpeted room patrolled by attentive staff, the muted decorative tone risking no jolts to visual tranquillity. Even the pattern of rolling waves on the walls has a lulling effect. The cooking, hitherto more studiedly Italian in origin than it is these days, opts for assurance and refinement rather than  showy gastronomic effect, with soothing textures (silky purées make regular appearances), gently wrought counterpoints of flavour, and the unarguable quality of prime raw materials. The carte exists in a zone of indeterminacy between the standard three courses and a more taster-like six, according to keenness of appetite, and there is a fixed-price lunch offering too. A mosaic of cured salmon bound with dulse comes with shaved fennel in a bright elderflower dressing with sea herbs. The crumbing and frying of sweetbreads allows the main ingredient a rarely seen integrity here, its texture for once not reduced to something from the fried chicken shop, its accompaniments of carrot variations and toasted hazelnuts in a soy dressing completing a satisfying dish. We might wonder whether the rice-crusted breasts of partridge, together with a slender confit leg, could benefit from a little old-fashioned gaminess, but the accoutrements of cauliflower purée and pickled blackberries make sense, while Scottish venison comes with an array of beetroot, pickled walnuts and a ball of braised venison and pork. Dessert could be something as eye-popping as a broad-beamed mandarin soufflé, stuffed at the table first with orange and Grand Marnier compote, then with pancake ice cream; otherwise, you might gravitate towards the unadorned zesty heaven of the caramelised Amalfi lemon tart. Wines are assiduously well-chosen, with some excellent selections by the glass, though our hankering for a dry sherry revealed there isn't a drop in the building.

4 Rosette Award for Culinary Excellence