Tell friends who aren’t au fait with top-end London dining (or are hard of hearing, or both) that you are ‘going to Prism’ and they are likely to ask what crime you have committed. In fact, it would be hard to imagine an experience less like being banged up in Wormwood Scrubs – unless brilliantly executed, complex but never silly food served impeccably in a stunning yet soothing setting has become the order of the day at our penal establishments.

The Venue
Situated in the former Bank of New York building in the heart of the City and part of the Harvey Nichols empire, Prism comprises a high-ceilinged, imposing restaurant, two smaller dining rooms for private functions and, in complete contrast, a cool tunnel of a subterranean bar. The grandness of the main restaurant’s fluted, classical columns and well-spaced, starched linen-topped tables is contemporised by red leather and chrome chairs, a bar straight out of a boutique hotel, and moodily backlit windows.

The Atmosphere
From the moment you walk in, a meal at Prism feels special but never intimidating or overly formal. This is down to the staff who, despite being super-slick, offset the grandeur of the setting with unfailing friendliness: you feel they genuinely want to do all they can to make your experience memorable.

At lunchtime, it’s full of City players wooing clients and exercising their expense accounts. By night, when this part of London is pretty much deserted, leather sofas and low tables turn half of the room into a cocktail lounge and jazzy, lounge musak is played, cleverly preventing the relatively small number of diners feeling isolated.

The Food
Breads, which are offered countless times, set the tone. Slices of white, walnut and raisin, and rosemary are all as fresh as a daisy with a crunchy crust and – hoorah! – the butter is soft: why do so many establishments struggle to get this detail right? An amuse bouche of blue cheese, mushroom, truffle and both filo and shortcrust pastries is very amusing indeed.

There are eight starters and eight mains. A fillet of red mullet escabeche (£14.00) is delicate and juicy, and surprises by arriving warm. Its accompanying salad of minutely diced Jerusalem artichoke, potato and sweet red pepper with palourdes (clams) delivers the perfect, light, summer starter. Even better is a trio of huge, crusty scallops (£16.50) on a silky caramelised cauliflower puree with diced apple, daikon (Asian radish), cress and truffle.

The mains are similarly faultless. Melting fillets of plaice, steamed with lemon, thyme, and mussels, come with a courgette flower, sweet pickled crab and sauce vierge (£26). Every component pulls its weight: this is complex, confident cooking of the highest order. Saddle of Pyrenean milk fed lamb (£31.50) is three moist and tender pink noisettes with a herby stuffing. They contrast sensationally with confit of lamb shoulder, flavoursome almost to the point of being gamey, served in a cannelloni tube. A side of homemade chips (£3.75) are crisp without and floury within, and, as promised by the waitress, easily enough for two. French beans, also £3.75, are a similarly generous portion, perfectly al dente and laced with melted butter.

After so much perfection, the only way is down, and desserts are very slightly disappointing. There are just four options plus cheeses, the cheapest of which is a selection of three rather modest scoops of ice cream or sorbet (£6.50). Quince sorbet is a bit bland, whilst pear has flavour but a bit too much of the fruit’s characteristic grittiness. Rhubarb sorbet, however, is utterly gorgeous; silkily smooth, deeply flavoured and just sweet enough. It’s also the one that marries best with the adornment of biscuity crumbs, putting one in mind of a rhubarb crumble.

The whole meal is a richly rewarding experience which justifies its take-a-deep-breath price tag and, unlike at some similarly ambitious places, the portions are as generous as the waiters’ smiles.

The Drink
The wine list is oenophile heaven: 24 pages of champagnes, whites, roses, reds, halves, magnums, dessert wines and ports. Business diners hoping to put a sparkle in their client’s eye might kick off with Dom Perignon Oenotheque Selection 1976 at £1,175 followed by a Batard Montrachet, Grand Cru, Etienne Sauzet (£475) with a fish starter, then a Chateau Petrus, Premier Grand Cru Classe 1989 (£2,700) with the meat main.

Those paying their own way should enjoy either the clean, crisp Harvey Nichols’ sauvignon blanc or the Vin de Pays d’Oc, also HN own brand, both non-mickey-takingly priced at £18. There’s plenty by the glass, too. Coffees or teas at £4 might seem a bit steep but they do come with plenty of yummy homemade chocolates.

The Last Word
Anyone spending around £80 a head for a three-course meal with modest wine has a right to expect something memorably marvellous. All too often that isn’t the case, but this place totally delivers. What’s more, because the City is deserted in the evenings, getting a table shouldn’t be much of a problem. (You’ll need to go on a weeknight, however, as Prism is open only for private hire at weekends.) Forget the overpriced, over-populated West End for once and head east to a restaurant where the kitchen’s beautifully realised ambition is as lofty as the dining room’s ceiling.

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