Cinnamon Club

Since The Cinnamon Club opened in 2001, a steady procession of politicians, lobbyists, deal-makers and celebrities has made it one of the most fashionable of Westminster’s eateries. The restaurant occupies the site of what was previously the old Westminster library, a grand lump of red-brick Gothic Victoriana not far from the House of Commons. When it opened, some commentators held up the development as a marker for all that was wrong about 21st-century London. Supplanting a cathedral of learning with one where fat wallets spend their largesse on increasing their largeness. This is not entirely fair. It makes it sound like a gang of crack restauranteurs abseiled down the walls and flung themselves in through the leaded windows before burning the books and proclaiming kitchen rule. It didn't happen like that. Westminster council closed the library and offered up the building to a commercial interest. Iqbal Wahhab won the lease. At least it's not another office block. Plus there are attempts to replicate the air of a library; the gallery is packed with row after row of old books (although on closer inspection, the floor-to-ceiling bookcase in the smart bar reveals shelf contents presented more for decoration than erudition, and far too many Bibles for any real book lover).

The cavernous husk of the library bestows a cool, calm space with a lovely airy vault, fine parquet floors and great stretches of brown-leather panelling. It is a space that lends equally well to lunches as to dinners. In spite of its size, the clever lighting brings night-time intimacy to the place, reminiscent of evening sojourns spent enveloped in the library at university. More surprising still was the sociable buzz about the place, which for 7pm on a Monday night was nothing short of startling.

All curry clichés are banned from the menu, so don’t even bother if you want chicken tikka masala, onion bhaji or poppadoms. There is tandoori on the menu, but it is pigeon or Portobello mushroom. We settled for the tasting menu (my companion opting for the vegetarian version). The amuse-gueule was a magnificent mouthful of sweet potato fritter served with sweet tamarind sauce, which came perched on beautiful porcelain with a dainty fork.

Then came the starters. My friend declared his potato cake with date, spinach and apricot a revelation and enthused over his curried vegetable ravioli with a pomegranate extract and. The spice kick came subtly and the sweetness of the sauce played beautifully against it. My fish succession of salmon, scallop and king prawn (the latter simmered in saffron and almond sauce) was superb. All the fish was expertly cooked - crisp on the outside, and yet still tender within, and there was a gentleness to the tandoori spicing of the salmon that left an impression without overwhelming the flavour of the seafood itself.

My veggie chum, whose anticipation had been piqued by the potato cake, declared his main course of Portobello mushroom, vegetable curry and tomato naan ‘good but unexceptional’. By contrast my red deer with fenugreek onion sauce was a sensitively-spiced, achingly tender textural triumph. It was also beautifully presented, to the extent that we joked whether we should eat it or photograph it. I ended up doing both.

Pudding lifted the game yet again; saffron poached pears with lemon and pistachio mousse were delicate and soothing. But a cautionary note. The food is rich, very rich, and very abundant: a pre-pudding amuse-bouche, along with the pre-starter and the petits fours, took the tasting menu course tally from eight to eleven. Pre-prandial planning would therefore be prudent.

Although prices are high, the spectacular tasting menu, at £75, represents real value, and whilst the concept of upmarket Indian food may no longer be considered cutting-edge stuff, rarely is it realised at this level of innovation and excellence.

The Old Westminster Library,

30-32 Great Smith Street,London SW1P 3BUT: 020 7222 2555info@cinnamonclub.com