Wiltons: The Last Word in Old-School Dining

There are restaurants you go to for dinner, and then there are restaurants where dinner comes with a sense of occasion. Wiltons, on Jermyn Street, belongs very firmly to the latter category.

Walking through its doors feels rather like stepping out of modern London and into a more civilised version of it. This is not a place interested in chasing the latest dining fad, nor does it need to. Wiltons has been quietly perfecting the rituals of British hospitality since 1742, when George William Wilton opened a shellfish stall near Haymarket. More than 280 years later, the restaurant remains one of St James's most compelling arguments for doing things properly.

And, pleasingly for a magazine with an interest in clothes as much as food, Wiltons still believes dinner is worth dressing for.

The restaurant's dress code asks gentlemen to leave the shorts, sportswear, graphic T-shirts, hoodies and open-toed shoes at home. It is hardly draconian, but it does establish an important principle: the clothes you wear should acknowledge where you are. A jacket may no longer be compulsory, but arriving in something resembling an outfit rather than something you wore to collect a parcel feels like the correct approach.

This old-school attitude is part of Wiltons' charm. The history is not displayed like a museum exhibit; it is woven into the experience.

The business became a fully fledged restaurant in 1840, when Robert Thomas Wilton secured a licence to serve wine and beer. In 1868 came a Royal Warrant as Purveyor of Oysters to Queen Victoria and the Prince of Wales. The restaurant subsequently moved around St James's before arriving at its present Jermyn Street address in 1984.

That lineage matters because Wiltons is one of the increasingly rare places where tradition doesn't mean nostalgia for its own sake. It means knowing what works.

Take the Martini. This summer, Wiltons is making a particular ceremony of it, with a bespoke Wiltons Gin Martini distilled in a London Dry style and flavoured with lemon verbena, bergamot, dill, samphire and oyster leaf — a suitably maritime nod to the restaurant's seafood heritage. There are Harris Gin, Padstow Vodka and Belvedere Vodka alternatives, each accompanied by a trio of savoury bites.

It is exactly the sort of pre-dinner ritual that makes sense here. Order one, sit back and allow London to carry on outside.

Our dinner began with the Obsiblue prawn cocktail: a knowing revival of a classic rather than an attempt to reinvent it beyond recognition. It set the tone nicely for what followed.

The halibut with tarragon and miso béarnaise was particularly accomplished. There is something reassuring about a beautifully cooked piece of fish accompanied by a properly considered sauce, and the tarragon brought the familiar béarnaise character while the miso added a subtle savoury depth. Then came grilled Dorset lamb cutlets with the traditional grill garnish, accompanied by Wiltons' apple and mint jelly. It is food with its tie loosened but still tucked neatly into the waistband: straightforward, generous and assured. The apple and mint provided precisely the sort of sweet, fresh counterpoint that makes lamb sing.

And then, because a restaurant such as Wiltons understands that pudding is not an optional extra, came the petit fours — Armagnac and Yorkshire sea salt, Morello cherry and red wine jelly, lemon meringue tart and Wiltons fudge. A final flourish, and another reminder that restraint is often more luxurious than excess.

The great pleasure of Wiltons is that it doesn't seem particularly interested in being fashionable. In an era of restaurants designed to photograph well, Wiltons is designed to be experienced. The white linen, formal service, classic cooking and unapologetic dress code aren't affectations; they are the point.

That spirit remains. Wiltons is not trying to transport you to some imagined future of dining. It offers something arguably more difficult to find: continuity.

So put on the jacket. Order the Martini. Take your time over the fish. And resist the temptation to check your phone.

After all, at Wiltons, dinner has been going on since 1742. It can probably wait a little longer for you.

Wiltons, 55 Jermyn Street, St James's, London SW1Y 6LX. Dinner Monday to Saturday; Sunday and Bank Holidays closed.

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