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Marque

Chic place, this. Shreds of steel ripple from one dark wall of the compact, urbane room, a contemporary artist’s take on spilt milk, while dewdrops of crystal dangle from a chandelier at the other end. These touches echo the forward momentum the Marque team maintains in both its menus and mighty wine lists. It’s a comfortable space, the waiters are informed, yet down to earth, but signatures such as the airy almond jelly with crab, sweetcorn and almond gazpacho and the newer likes of calamari tendrils entangled with a web of lardo strands under a black radish garnish are designed to provoke thought as much as please or comfort. It’s exotic stuff, but grounded in clear thinking. It can be challenging food, but it’s this willingness to foresake the safety of consistency for the thrill of the new that wins Marque fans, and when it works, it has no peer.