Polpo, London W1

Dinner for two, with wine, £60

When Polpo launched in 2009 the food didn't win a great deal of press. All the talk was about waiting times—or how long could a diner be made to wait before they gave up and went elsewhere? Polpo founders Russell Norman and Richard Beatty had alighted on a dangerously counter-productive PR strategy: blanket press coverage complemented by a no-bookings policy. It's the kind of demand management that has served the consumer electronics market so well. In a dark, clammy Soho room, frontloaded with hungry, mutinous patrons, the result was often less successful.

Two years on, there's still an air of chaos at Polpo, to the extent that you almost feel a tinge of sympathy for the clipboard-wielding restaurant manager charged with seating 400 diners on 65 chairs inside three hours. Almost. An hour, I'm told, could be less, could be more. But the under-promise reigns, and we are over-delivered to our table inside 40 minutes.

Polpo's sharing-plate policy has spread quickly in Soho's narrow spaces, no doubt fuelled by its popularity. Tom Oldroyd, head chef at Polpo, was formerly at Bocca di Lupo, a costlier incarnation. At Polpo's prices, the informality that sharing brings feels more fitting, although there are flavours that demand to be discussed: arancini, small balls of rice, stuffed and fried; chicken liver crostino, and some that don't—stew for two anyone? A mortadella, gorgonzola and walnut parcel feels at first like a midnight snack concocted barefoot in front of the fridge. But served on a little plate, in a room heaving with atmosphere, it's well worth waiting for.

David Woodward