The Typing Room - Removed from website November 2021 (closed) , London

Lee Westcott, aged 27, has strode into the limelight at the Town Hall Hotel. Not only was he occupying the space that formerly housed Nuno Mendes' feted, Michelin-prized Viajante, but he was also stepping out from the shadow of mentor Jason Atherton - whose Hong Kong restos Ham & Sherry and 22 ships were captained by Westcott. So, does he have what it takes to retain the hotel's legacy and keep Bethnal Green on the map as a fine dining destination? In short, yes he does. He runs a pioneering, innovative eatery wired with youthful electricity. Much of this comes from the open plan kitchen situated on the western end of the dining room, where the chefs work assiduously, weaving in and out of each other, deftly manipulating dishes, administering foams and tweezing microherbs. The staff are the most salient feature of an otherwise demure room, which features a modernist design with herringbone parquet flooring, white marble, and a pair of quite unique chandeliers. Upon taking our seats we were presented with aperitifs (an excellent vesgroni and refreshing riot cup number one) and a bread course. Bread, at its best, is usually a distraction to tide you over until more interesting food arrives, but at the Typing Room it was one of our favourite courses.  There were two to choose from, a light as helium brioche with whipped butter and glassine shards of chicken skin as well as a sturdier roll with toasted barley butter. In our opinion, it trumps even St John. The menu is then divided into snacks, starters and mains. The chicken wing 'drumstick', a kind of kiev lollypop cooked sous vide and then fried crisp, was good, but we preferred the cumin lavoche heaped with crab, sweet corn and curried egg. Westcott gathered momentum with his mains. Raw beef has never appeared so comely, hammered into submission and overlaid with a small garden of smoked beetroot, turnip, horseradish and sorrel. It was nearly as pretty as the veal sweetbreads, caught up in a whirlwind of raw pea, white asparagus and fomented buttermilk. By the time we were at our mains we knew that we were in the hands of a serious talent. Pine-smoked pigeon with salt baked celeriac, lovage and hazelnut was as excellent as it sounds, as was a silken, sumptuous serving of lamb with smoked aubergine, wild garlic, yoghurt and onion. We departed for penicillins across the road at Satan's Whiskers feeling thoroughly convinced that the hotel's culinary legacy is in good hands. We look forward to seeing this chef develop.