At the table - Flock to the flame, this temple's time is now

Restaurants, like everything else, are mostly about timing.

- DAVID ELLIS

Not as in waiters pausing climactically before rolling off the specials — though that is good — but about when they open, and when they are visited. Both have influence. I first went to Acme Fire Cult three years ago on a date, which was a mistake as I was in love with someone else, but also because afterwards she wanted to go clubbing.

My memories since of Acme have mostly revolved around feelings of being insufficiently cool for it, and of a strange certainty that everything arrives under a pecorino whiteout. But then in February, I was invited to "a long lunch" being laid on for a motley company of hacks and rogues-about-town. Wouldn't you know it? After an effervescent afternoon and a bottle or 17 of very good Chardonnay, I began to wonder how I had missed the sheer sparkling brilliance of Andrew Clarke's menu, or the ramshackle charm of his terrace. I hatched a theory that this might be a perfect summer restaurant.