Simple, smart, stylish. The interior of Chez Kristof

Picture a leafy enclave just hidden moments from the heart of west London. Within it, there’s a grove so pretty, it could easily be a part of the millionaires’ parade in Notting Hill. And there nestled among the bars and boutiques, illuminated by fairy lights, is a delightful local restaurant, serving up excellent French cuisine. Who knew?

Chez Kristof on Hammersmith Grove is restaurateur Jan Woroniecki’s third London establishment, and is the embodiment of neighbourhood bonhomie.

As Arthur pours me a punchy Kiwi Cooler (Belvedere vodka, fresh kiwi and cloudy apple juice on crushed ice), I happily chat to him over a large bowl of radishes. What a thrill to snack on something that won’t ruin your appetite. Show me a radish over a peanut any day.

Solo at the bar, I do not feel conspicuous at all. The atmosphere is so relaxed, it’s seductive. The industrial-style fixtures and fittings work well against the exposed brickwork of this converted Victorian home. Hardwood floors and rustic oak tables complement the décor and I’m instantly pleased to see typically French white-paper tablecloths. Most of the space is open-plan, but there are plenty of banquettes lining the walls, perfect for privacy. At Chez Kristof, you may well find yourself telling a stranger your deepest dreams and regrets, should your date be late.

Mine isn’t though, luckily.

Going through the menu, just like reading the cocktail list, is not a speedy affair. We find ourselves ordering and discussing, then re-ordering, because there are so many dishes we want to try. Eventually the manager graciously steps in and organises a platter of starters with a little bit of everything. How diplomatic.

Among the best choices are Whitebait – nicely stripped back, not too heavily layered in breadcrumbs; Smoked Haddock, Beetroot and Horseradish – wonderfully mild and peppery; Rabbit and Foie Gras Terrine with Pickled Rhubarb – no need for the provocative rhubarb in my opinion, but lovely meaty slabs of flavour nonetheless; plus we opt for a Chicory, Walnut and Roquefort salad, which rounds things up nicely.

While we’ve been nibbling away, the restaurant has trickle-filled with the after-work crowd. Judging by the hubbub, most of our fellow diners are locals from the Shepherd’s Bush area (or Chez Bu as some now refer to it). A couple of gents talk business over a bottle of rosé; a grey-haired lady with bangles up to her elbows titters warmly with her family; a young boy sits up straight, wearing his school tie. And in the corner, a dishevelled Byronesque type in a gold waistcoat is wooing a petite blonde. I’ve been to very few places in London where the diners have appeared so content.

The terrace: perfect for lingering with a glass of wine

A fresh Macon-Charnay 2008 Domaine Rouzes is whisked over to our table – the perfect accompaniment for our main courses of Poached Skate with Spanish-style Chickpeas and Moules Mariniere.

By 11pm, no one is in a hurry to leave Chez Kristof. I’m still mmmm-ing and aaah-ing over my Chocolate Moelleux with Salt Caramel Mousse and Vanilla ice-cream – a divine blend of hot and cold; sweet and salty; crumbly and smooth. You can’t rush these things, but eventually I’m forced to put down my spoon and the bill is requested…

So, fellow friends in heels, if you find yourself on London’s west side, why not head over to the little-known strip called Hammersmith Grove and put your head round the door of this charming resto – if only to confirm it really exists.

More information about Chez Kristof is available on the restaurant’s website.