Jan Moir Are You Ready To Order

The sommelier at the Connaught glides to our table. Under his arm he carries the hotel's leather-bound wine list. It is the size of a tombstone at Dead Diner's Gulch, and is equally forbidding. 'I think it would be nice,' he says, 'to start the meal with a half bottle of Chassagne Montrachet.'

We are sure it would! But the church mice at Are You Ready To Order? are rarely, if ever, in the habit of ordering half bottles of wine for £65 apiece. Who is these days? Who ever was? What we would like is a modest but good half bottle of white wine for about £20. Would the sommelier choose for us, please? He knows what we have ordered to eat.

Hmmmm. Tssssk. Cough, cough, cough. Ahem. The sommelier pats the wine list in a regretful manner as if it is a pet poodle that has just soiled the silk carpet. His smile is as thin as a shoelace. 'I don't think so,' he says. You don't think what? 'I don't think we have a half bottle of wine for under £20.' This is one of those restaurant moments when you know you are In Trouble.

The Connaught is one of London's most celebrated and beautiful hotels. It has always been expensive, of course. Following a glowing, marvellous recent refurbishment, the cheapest room available this week will cost you £382 per night, breakfast not included. Hold the poached eggs! Speaking of food, a celebrated new chef has been installed in the famous, wood panelled dining room and expectations are high. Helene Darroze, a two Michelin star chef from France, has a big reputation and a signature dish called Le Caviar D'Aquitaine. It sounds like it should be a film starring Anouk Aimee as a sooty-haired artist from south-west France doing charcoal abstracts in a Paris garrett, but no. It is, in fact, a stemmed cocktail glass filled with a layer of chopped, raw oysters under a layer of caviar jelly, under a layer of chilled, stilled veloute of haricot beans. Very elegante! Yet S tastes it and makes a face like a bloodhound chewing a wasp. 'Fantastic oysters, but they drown out the flavour of the caviar,' he complains, before going on to moan that this tiny, savoury trifle should be an amuse bouche, not a first course with a £10 supplement. Oh dear. And we were so hoping for a good time.

A decade or so ago, when maitre chef Michel Bourdin ran the Connaught dining room in its pomp, it was one of the last bastions of Franco-British haute cuisine in London. Bourdin was a master, in the Escoffier tradition, of blending classical French food with a dash of British produce in the authentic grand hotel style. Terrines took five days to make and were studded with foie gras and truffles. Dishes on the menu included the best roast game, properly garnished; Mignon de veau Orloff; and Consomme en Gelee 'Cole Porter'. Bourdin was succeeded briefly by his protege Jerome Ponchelle - now at Wiltons - before Gordon Ramsay's company took over and installed Angela Hartnett. Her modern Italian flame burned brightly, but soon tailed off, like a diving comet. Those who had suggested that the barbarians were at the Connaught gate seemed to have a point; a certain distilled excellence and attention to detail had gone, perhaps forever.

Now they have introduced Darroze, who trained with Alain Ducasse, amongst others. Much is expected of her high falutin' food, but does it live up to expectations? Are You Ready To Order? is unconvinced. The Darroze metier is to meld the gutsy food and flavours of her native south west France and whip them into haute cuisine preparations. We can't help but feel much of it is misguided.

Deep-sea razor blade anyone?

The real amuse bouche is a mini-creme brulee with dots of apple sorbet and a rubble of peanuts. Weird, and quite possibly the last thing you would ever want to sharpen your appetite. Never mind, a delicious starter of wild Irish salmon is formed into chunky leaves of gravad lax, sweetened with muscovado sugar and served with shards of grilled salmon skin. The latter is supposed to be a Darroze trademark, but it is like eating a deep-sea razor blade. The fish itself, however, is superb.

On to the main courses; le turbot de ligne is line-caught turbot roasted in foie gras oil and served with fennel compote and confit, plus a green apple reduction and Taggiasca olives. Le boeuf Angus Aberdeen de Chez Allens of Mayfair - a dish description that takes pretentious Franglais to hitherto unknown heights of hilarity - features a fillet cooked in chicory butter, with a slice of roasted foie gras Rossini style, plus a puree of celeriac with grated tonka beans, purple onion rings and bitter coffee sauce.

The turbot is another magical piece of fish; firm but gelatinous, with a wild, deep flavour. Being roasted in foie gras oil keeps it in mint, crisp condition and adds a pungent layer of flavour. The fennel is less of a success. It is unevenly roasted, the bulb undercooked and the fingers overdone. The olives and the apples? One ploughs through and eats it and thinks; less is more. The same sentiment applies to the meat main course. While the fillet steak is a stunning piece of beef, perfectly cooked - to the second (a surprisingly rare kitchen skill), there is much that dismays. The foie gras is again correctly cooked but it has been so carelessly deveined that much of what chefs call the 'spider' is still intact. The accompaniments crowd the plate like a squabbling gang of ferals; celeriac puree, vanilla-tasting tonka beans, a coffee sauce and deep fried onion rings? Urk. Darroze seems all too ready to slip into mulchy overkill. Certainly, she is tremendous at sourcing good ingredients - but Are You Ready To Order? feels that she is equally tremendous at tinkering with them to the point of culinary cruelty. In short, it is very confused cooking, and plated with a gauche clumsiness that is as much surprising as it is unappetising. More criticism; the over-use of dairy is incredible and the service nowhere near polished enough for the reputation of the Connaught and the prices it charges. Moreover, the hotel's glam new makeover does not extend into the dining room, where the only changes we can see are a couple of new banquettes and a few chairs. Everything is very low budget, except the bill, even if the sommelier did find us some reasonable Chablis in the end for about £19.

• Helene Darroze at the Connaught, Carlos Place, London W1K 2AL. Tel 020 3147 7200. Three course a la carte dinner menu for two, excluding drinks, service and supplements, £150.