Saturday lunch at Claridge's

There was obviously no point in asking whether Ramsay himself was in the kitchen. Even if he wasn’t over in New York, personally filleting one pastry chef for every frosty review of his new stateside venture, the great man probably spends his Saturday afternoons teaching his pigs to baste themselves; or practicing donning his super-hero chefs' whites in front of the mirror. But it did seem pertinent to enquire as to the whereabouts of head chef Mark Sargeant. After all, it was under his stewardship that Claridge's won its first Michelin star and an embarrassment of fawning critics, back in 2003.

But Sargeant, who first worked with Ramsay at Aubergine, before joining him in front of the cameras of Hell’s Kitchen and The F-word, isn’t in the kitchen either, possibly leading a good portion of a rammed dining room to wonder who exactly is responsible for crystallising this afternoon’s walnuts, toasting the brioche, or indeed, roasting the salsify—especially those enjoying the £75 a head taster menu. In lieu of the celebrity chefs there are waiters, scores of them.

Claridge's employs that rather annoying weekend policy of two lunch sittings per session, 12pm and 2pm. So, if you want to eat at the internationally recognised time of 1pm, you’d better book the chef’s table, which quite rightly permits you to eat whenever you damn well like. Since 12pm on a Saturday is still officially Friday night, our party opted for the latter sitting of 2pm, and as a result, by the time we finally sit down we’re hungrier than a bundle of new-borns—which is probably just as well. Mercifully, our starters arrive promptly, and all are bordering on excellent, particularly the pan-fried red mullet, although I never did find out what a “shellfish nage” was.

The variety of dishes on the cheaper, set-lunch menu (£30 for three courses) is wide, from roast guinea fowl with herb gnocchi, to a classic, unexpectedly tender, aged rib-eye, paired with some pretty spectacular roasted parsnips. The menu changes frequently and is a good way to sample Ramsay’s successful formula on a tight budget. The fancy stuff is mainly to be found a la carte (£65 for three courses) or on the six-course “menu prestige” (£75 a head), which offers an interesting, but hardly groundbreaking, carb-heavy veggie alternative for every meat dish. If you want to try those crystallised walnuts, you’ll have to order the salt-marsh lamb.

Of the puddings, Ramsay’s chocolate fondant lives up to its legendary billing, although it’s almost too rich to finish. A better option is the cheese board, which, despite a rather spurious surcharge, features some of the most pungent, creamy, flavoursome cheeses I’ve ever come across. Our Russian cheese waiter is sorry to say there are no contributions from his Mother Russia, but would we like to try “this goat’s cheese from France, this one from Italy, this stilton...” It was a good ten minutes before he moved on to the next table.