Nessa, Soho

Looking over the confidently international menu at Nessa the other evening, it occurred to me that it's been a while since I've had a moan about anywhere being 'inauthentic'. For all the years that we British were insecure about our place in the culinary world, and those years were many, we worked ourselves to the bone to be more French than the French, more Italian than the Italians, more fiercely Spanish than anything you could reasonably be expected to find in Spain. How dare anyone come to our shores and think we didn't take our food seriously? Look at what we can do!

Nowadays, though you certainly still find restaurants that stick religiously to their regional remits (just look at the success of Bouchon Racine), it seems like more places are willing to just do what comes naturally, peppering their menus from influences from all across the globe. Look at the menu at Papi, for example, or (the sadly departed, though hopefully soon-to-return) Bright. Not British, not Asian, not French or Italian, just a list of dishes you immediately want to eat, using the best ingredients available. All of a sudden, it seems obvious that this is the future.

Nessa, then, is not to be tied down to any particular cuisine. It dances through Italian, French, American and British, constructing a menu of attractive and accessible comfort foods that rarely - if ever - conform to anything so dull as tradition but still impress nonetheless. These are cheese and onion croquettes, piping hot from the fryer, on a bed of 'grape mustard mayo' which provided the perfect accompaniment.

Panzanella made great use of those juicy, sweet (and often eye-wateringly expensive) winter tomatoes, with (as is traditional) croutons to provide crunch but also (as isn't) slices of jalapeño chilli and pomegranate seeds because, well, why not.

Spelt risotto was constructed and seasoned perfectly, with that lovely loose bubbly texture of spelt bound with a shocking green wild garlic. They'd apparently used the excellent Montgomery's cheddar in the mix too, so it had a lovely rich farmy flavour in the background. We all loved this, and I'm not normally a risotto fan.

Leeks were charred in the wood-fired oven then presented on a bed of "almond ricotta", something that deserves to take off. Salsa verde added some acidity, and some pieces of caramelised pecans some extra nutty/sweet/crunchy notes. Again, this went down very well.

The black pudding brioche has become a bit of an Instagram hit, and very nice it was too - think gala pie, only with black pudding instead of egg and brioche instead of sausage and pastry. Actually, don't think of it like that, that doesn't help at all, it's nothing like a gala pie. Anyway the pudding itself was nice and crumbly and rich, and the "brown butter noisette" was a kind of thin, stock-y gravy.

House bread was soda with whipped butter, just what was required.

If I'm going to be brutal, the Caesar was a bit thick on rich, cheesy sauce and a bit light on everything else - maybe it needed more of a salty kick from anchovies to fight the sauce, or more mustard somewhere. I'm not sure. Still, not bad.

Chicken "Cordon Bleu", a respectful nod to an institution that's trained up many a British chef over the years and is still going strong, was exactly as the recipe intended, with moist breast meat folded around bacon, all coated in breadcrumbs and sat in a nice salty jus. Monksbeard was added probably to stop the whole thing being a bit culinary school, but was very welcome.

Steak tartare was impeccably done - there was just the right amount of dressing and herbs folded into the meat, but the dry aged beef shone above the other ingredients, with a fantastic funky taste and addictively loose texture. Look at the colour of that truffled confit egg too.

Finally amongst the savouries, a giant monkfish tail on the bone, perfectly cooked and topped with chopped pickles and chives. Everyone on the table took turns lifting great chunks of bright white meat from the bones until every trace of flesh had disappeared. Plenty of it, too, for £35.

Desserts were unpretentiously presented, but very well done. We particularly enjoyed the bay leaf custard that came with the gooseberry jam roly poly, but also, how nice to see gooseberry on a menu?

And finally baked Alaska, with bright pink poached rhubarb surrounding a blowtorched mound of meringue coating a portion of (gorgeous) gingerbread ice cream. Whenever I order baked Alaska I am duty bound to point out how easy chefs have it in professional kitchens being able to use a blowtorch the exterior without worrying about melting the ice cream. My grandma had to do this dish with nothing more than a very hot oven and perfect timing. She always managed it though.

Yes, we did have a lot of food - and certainly enough wine - but the bill only came to just over £64 each, which is pretty good really. Service was attentive and pleasant, and it's a very nice room to be in, with its views of the busy open kitchen and comfy plush furnishings. I did get lost on the way back from the toilet at one point, but it's a bit of a maze down there, and they're desperately missing a 'Back to the restaurant' sign or two. Something to work on, anyway.

Overall, though, Nessa is serving nice food for not much money, and you can't ask much more than that. I'm only docking a couple of points because in my nerdy blogger way I'd quite like to have seen a bit more unusual offaly bits or rarer seafood available - the list of dishes is, necessarily I would assume, familiar bordering on safe. But when it's all done as well as this, who cares? Sometimes you just want to be rewarded, not challenged. And when you do, Nessa will be waiting for you.

8/10