Rare, exotic, Central Asian flavours are promised but seldom delivered at this good-looking basement newcomer. Maybe they’ll emerge as the kitchen finds its feet. It’s certainly event dining, however, and at least it’s different.

The Venue
Find the discreet entrance in charming, moneyed Marylebone and descend to a moodily-lit room, expensively decorated in a contemporary style with dark woods, deep carpets and grey upholstery. It's an intimate venue with only forty covers, enabling everyone to see the chefs baking breads in tandoor ovens in the open kitchen. Five private rooms, each for between twelve and fifteen people, feature DVD and karaoke facilities, so sitting at the other end of the main room might suit romantic couples best. A cocktail at the smart bar would be a great start.

The Atmosphere
Staff couldn’t be less snooty or keener to help. The handsome, young, black-shirted waiter offers a lengthy lecture about the menu, whilst jazz fusion muzak alternates with traditional Asian in the background. Diners are predominantly young and casually glamorous.

The Food
Seafood fans should go elsewhere; an eel starter is the solitary fishy offering. Meat lovers on the other hand, are in their element, and vegetarians adequately catered for too. From fifteen soups, salads and ‘small eats’, try the soleniya - a plate of perfectly pleasant (though far from cheap at £9.25) pickled gherkins, mild yellow chillies, button mushrooms, and spiced cherry tomatoes let down only by boot leather skin. Unremarkable pumpkin samsas (circular samosas - again, no bargain at £7.75) are agreeably doughy and mildly spiced with olive oil-dressed rocket on the side to pander to 21st-century London expectations.

As for mains, the house speciality, Samarqand Plov (like a pilau or pilaf, £12.50), features tender cubes of lamb and gently spiced rice. There’s no sauce, so the side dish of finely-chopped tomato and red onion salad proves vital. It’s just all a bit underwhelming though. Chicken shashlik (£10.75) also leaves you feeling a little indifferent. Five wings and thighs are charcoal-grilled with the bones in and therefore remain juicy but, again, the spicing is tame, and the fiery-sounding raw onion and chilli relish is as gentle as a lamb. A bowl of rustic potato chips (£4.95) could be fluffier within and crisper without.

Dessert, from a list of just four, proves a game of two halves. Zebra chocolate cake (£6.90) - so called because of its chocolate and plain cake stripes - is dry, bland and crying out for cream. Four scoops of ice cream for £5.95, meanwhile, are ambrosia; smooth vanilla, deeply-flavoured dark chocolate, marzipan-y pistachio and, best of all, daringly sour cherry.

The Drink
The length of the vodka and Champagne lists suggests Samarqand is pitching squarely at Russians. There are also sixteen whites (£16-£390), a quartet of roses and twenty two reds (£17-£750). Disappointingly, only the house white and red are available by the glass, and this isn’t even mentioned on the list. The white is a decent, sharp sauvignon blanc, the red, a smooth, inoffensive shiraz/malbec. There is no dessert wine, a strange omission for a restaurant at this level.

The Last Word
Samarqand may prove a sleek and welcoming haven for homesick but well-heeled Uzbeks, Kazaks and, especially, Russians. Food-lovers whose roots lie elsewhere may feel however, that the £45-£50 they’ll pay for three unremarkable courses plus half a bottle of modest wine could be better spent elsewhere.

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