Jan Moir Are You Ready To Order

Whatever it is that Scott's has got, people want a lot of it. Since the day it opened in the dark December of 2006, this latest incarnation of Scott's fish restaurant has been an absolute smash. Celebrities and politicians love it; the rich and famous forever clamour to punish the parquet and their wallets in this sleek Mayfair outpost. On one celebrated evening earlier this year, Scott's diners included Tony and Cherie Blair and the topless model Jordan with her husband, Peter Andre. Not together, sadly, although this odd culture clash featuring crass exploiter of dubious artificially inflated assets (Tony) alongside big girly blouse (Peter) illustrates the central truth about Scott's. Everyone wants to come here.

It is harder to get a table at Scott's than at both its sister restaurants, the Ivy and Le Caprice. Yet for an establishment which is supposed to be London's premier fish restaurant, Scott's is sometimes unconvincing. I can't shake off the feeling that it is a fish restaurant for people who don't like fish very much. Ridiculous, perhaps. Especially when one skims down the restaurant's stiff, cream menu, which lists myriad fishy preparations including gilthead bream with courgettes and poivrade artichokes; River Towey sea trout with sorrel sauce; skate wing with brown butter and capers; pan fried slip soles; haddock both smoked and deep fried; and monkfish roasted with rosemary and given a bit of Spanish oomph with white beans, chorizo and padron peppers. Yet the only fish listed on the menu as being wild is the halibut. And last month, when great British native lobsters were plentiful and at their peak, the only specimens on offer at Scott's were weedy, flavourless Canadian lobsters. Is this good enough from what is supposed to be one of the best fish restaurants in the country? Even one that had such a tortured birth in London two long years ago?

On the rocks...

In one location or another, Scott's has been trading in the capital since 1851. In the 1950's, it was situated in Piccadilly and was a favourite of Ian Fleming, who reputedly discovered the dry martini, shaken not stirred, while sitting at Scott's bar. In 1969 Scott's moved here, to Mount Steet, one of London's loveliest thoroughfares. It occupies the ground floor of a handsome, Gothic grade II listed building, premises that were previously home to a restaurant called the Diplomat. The photographer Eve Arnold lived on the top floor of one of these red brick buildings, and would use her camera lenses, the same ones that had photographed Marilyn Monroe, to spy down on the window display of the fish shop opposite. She would then choose her fish for lunch, telephone down and have it delivered. Cool. The wet fish shop has long gone, of course. In its stead, a glamorous Marc Jacobs emporium now stands where the piles of salmon and shellfish once glittered on white marble slabs. What would Miss Arnold think of Scott's herring milts on toast for £5.50? I shudder to think, but suspect she would have been more supportive of the restaurant than other local residents, who mounted a campaign to keep potential noise levels down before the place had even opened. This resulted in delays with Westminster Council signing off the restaurant’s trading licence, ushering in a now legendary period where Scott's found themselves unable to charge their customers for what they had consumed. In the first ten days of opening, the restaurant gave away £350,000-worth of food and drink.

Since this rocky beginning, however, Scott's has gone from strength to strength. With its glamorous shellfish bar, featuring a sculptured porcelain tub shimmering with ice and crustaceans, and its sleek, sophisticated air, it oozes restaurant magic. Service is confident, elegant and knowing, while the atmosphere rocks every night. The £1million air conditioning system, which includes a 150 metre bore hole that tunnels down to the London water table, alongside new carpet and rubber caps on all furniture legs even keeps the neighbours happy. However, I am not thrilled that a plateau de fruits de mer (£28 per person, with Canadian lobster - no thanks! - £43 per person) features blast chilled shellfish; a storing process with tends to render everything tasteless. Like a hungry, blind seagull, one can hardly distinguish between species. However, the scampi provencale with fennel pilaff is a clever and popular dish and (when season permits) the six different types of oysters are excellent. Particularly notable is the lovely sherry trifle for two and other delicious puddings, including strawberry romanoff. All in all, it's an impeccable, modern restaurant, even if I wish it had just a touch more fishy soul. Most important; it is not as expensive as you might think.

• Scott’s, 20 Mount Street, Mayfair, London W1K 2HE. Tel: 020 7495 7309. Dinner for two, excluding drinks and service, £75.