Making my way from Piccadilly tube station to find St James Street and a little restaurant I’d been asked to sample, I’d really no idea what to expect; a flashy new boutique diner, perhaps, or an understated little town-house conversion offering a range of organic delicacies. What I wasn’t expecting was the imposing Edwardian building of near-monolithic proportions that greeted me on the corner of Kings Street. I suddenly felt very under-dressed.

Ornately decorated with marble columns, magnificent arches, elaborate cornices and floor-to-ceiling windows, Just St James’ whispers money with every nuance. The young, the beautiful and the trendy of London’s rich elite were gathered in the surprisingly busy and noisy bar area, situated just behind the welcome desk, while impeccably dressed men of business and elegant couples were dotted around the restaurant area as we were led to our corner table.

Settling down and preparing for the possibility of a faintly uncomfortable evening we were set at ease by a brightly smiling waitress who brushed away our discomfiture as efficiently as she later swept away our crumbs.

Water was poured and bread was proffered as we perused the seasons wine list, all ten pages of it. We opted for a modest little South African number; Clos Malverne, Pinotage, Stellenbosch (2003), described as “truly what Pinotage should taste like, slightly spiced ripe red fruits and velvet smooth,” priced at a mere £27.00 per bottle. I could, quite happily, have quaffed the entire bottle.

For the summer, Head Chef, Karl Byron had fashioned a series of menus for Just St James strictly based on seasonal fish, organic meats and locally produced (where possible) vegetables, funghi and garden herbs. The idea is commendable and although there’s not a great deal of choice for the egg-shy vegetarian amongst us, most other needs are catered for.

Once ordered, our meal arrived swiftly. My Vale of Evesham Asparagus with balsamic and parmesan was cooked beautifully. The Seared Tuna with trio of melons and mustard seed salsa that my friend started with looked to me like it may be more at home on a sushi dish than in a “traditional English” establishment, but I was assured by my her that it tasted fantastic. On to the main course, we opted for the elaborately decorated Devonshire Globe Artichoke Heart with wild mushrooms and saffron Hollandaise and Slow-roasted Appleton Pork with cinnamon apples, spring greens, wholegrain mustard and honey glaze with a side dish of succulent peas and mangetout, all perfectly prepared and skilfully presented.

There’s an expectation in restaurants of this calibre that although the food might be delightful, the servings will be small; at Just St James this is not the case and by the time we reached desert something light and palate-cleansing was all that could be countenanced by either of us. Resisting the siren call of Vanilla Panacotta, Grand Marnier Pancakes and Toffee Apple Mille Feuille, we took the slightly less adventurous options of Tropical Fruit Salad dressed with passion fruit and the Selection of Just ice creams, consisting of passion fruit, blackberry and vanilla, both of which were evidently freshly made and finished the meal wonderfully.

History’s littlest big man, Monsieur Bonaparte, once frequented this establishment, admittedly in its former life as a bank, but nonetheless, it’s a point worth remembering when thinking about setting the scene. Just St James is grand, it is lavish, it is remarkable in more ways than one. I’ve been to many, many restaurants, catering for many, many appetites, but I’ve never been anywhere quite like Just St James.