L'Artichaut hearts restraint

Universalism is vegetarian food's greatest obstacle. It seems incongruous for a restaurant when stripped of the butcher's offerings to have the versatility fundamental to good cooking. What would a painter be bereft of half his palette? The question is not of things lost, but those gained by omitting meat. In the herbivorous kitchen, the clarity of the food is that which appeals. Know thy limits, humble eater; take nothing in excess.

Nothing about L'Artichaut is excessive: no exaggerated non-conformist showiness here. The service is classically French: omnipresently formal, conscientious but reserved; polite, not mawkish. To a fault-seeking eye, the décor might first seem a flamboyant victim: neither excessive chic nor artfully self-conscious 'rustic', the touches simply diverging from expectation. The colour scheme is two-tone: aubergine and avocado for the walls, black and white for the crockery. The tables' edges are not square, but sigmoid; the chairs Picassoan with eccentricity.

The food, too, is elegantly restrained. It is delicious but in a unsurprising way. Everything was distinguished by soft melting flavours and textures punctuated with sharp interludes. The Lapsang Souchong barley risotto (£5) was smokily evocative of the East, creamily smooth and toothsomely al dente, and came studded with softest, sweetest butternut squash inking the palate with warm nuttiness. The means of accentuation: alpine grassland leaves, zingily fresh and mustardy. The Shiitake mushroom and Polenta terrine with red chard (£11.50) followed a similar tenet: lusciously soft fleshly body imbued with subtle savouriness and cut-through by some mystifying sharp-sour cadence, awakening the tongue from its mollifying slumber. Pudding: classic Scottish Clootie dumpling (£5.50) roused with pomegranate-festooned ice-cream. The blueprint is obvious.

If I seem to belittle the dignity of L'Artichaut, that is not my intention. The formulaic character is simply revelatory of the constraints placed upon vegetarian cooking. It was not unsuccessful in its delivery of an excellent dinner. We didn't leave in want of carnivorous gratification, but newly enlightened as to the value of culinary restraint. This reverent pseudo-convert is most thankful.