The Times - 7 February 2009

It was the usual story. I was meeting a friend for dinner, he'd got held up at work but had only managed to tell me the second I was pushing open the restaurant door. Cue half an hour of sitting awkwardly on my own, the lone female diner trying self-consciously not to look to self-consious. Except that this time it wasn't a problem because Le Caprice is one of the very few resaurants that knows how to treat solo arrivals. Instead of leaving me standing by the door or leading me to a table in full glare of everyone else, I was guided to a seat at the bar, offered a paper to read and asked if I would like a drink - without going down the deeply patronising "Glass of champagne, Madam?" route.

How different, I thought, as I happily idled away the 20 minutes before my friend arrived, this treatment was to another famous London restaurant that once left me and my (then) boyfriend marooned at opposite ends of the restaurant, unaware of each other's presence.

There is a reason that Le Caprice has been around, and as successful, for as long as it has (since 1981), and a large part of that is the quality of the service. It has not become beloved of the more discreet end of the A-list by asking every ten seconds whether everything is OK. And it did not become one of Princess Diana's favourite restaurants by messing up her order and giving her main-ortion fish and chips instead of a starter-size duck and watercress salad.

At Le Caprice, the staff don't keep knocking your chair, or asking if you're enjoying your meal. They don't empty a bottle super-quickly and ask if you want another, or hassle you to place your order, then take hours to bring it. In fact, you are rarely aware that your waiter exists. And I mean that as the highest possible praise. Delicious bread appears, wine is poured, plates are removed. It is flawless.

Timings are strict - our 7.30pm table had to be handed back just after 9pm, but they fulfilled their part of the bargain by pacing the meal correctly. They didn't push side-orders, though arguably they should since their creamed spinach and pommes allumettes were among the best bits. The granary toast that came with my Dorset crab was piping hot: how many other brigades of waiters manage hot toast? So hurrah for Le Caprice.