In Thailand you can get a perfectly decent Pad Thai and beer for a few hundred Baht. You can have an good pizza or freshly cooked burger for next to nothing. Food, in general, is cheap and cheerful. After a week of spring rolls and Tiger beer, we decided to treat ourselves to a fine-dining experience in the Michelin recognised Smokaccia Laboratory.

We opted for the nine-course(!) tasting menu - one regular and one vegan - with a pairing of both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks.

Let's get the cost out the way first - we paid around ฿16,000 (£380) and it was easily the best meal we've had anywhere in the world. The quality of the food even exceeded Gauthier Soho and the service was beyond that offered by the Chef's Table at The Savoy.

I'd like to walk you through the experience, so you can get a feel for why you should spend a ridiculous sum of money on several tiny portions.

As we entered the restaurant for our 18:00 reservation, we were greeted by name. It's a small thing, but it immediately made us feel warmly welcomed. There's was no awkward pause as a maître d' looked us up in a list, just a confirmation of our booking and dietary requirements, then an invitation to sit in the lounge.

Would we like a glass of Prosecco or sparkling non-alcoholic cocktail while we waited? But of course!

We were then presented with a cigar box each. As we opened them, smoke gently wafted out filling our noses with a delightful scent. Nestled inside was a small amuse-bouche - a perfect cracker topped with caviar. My vegan alternative had veggie-friendly caviar and was exquisite.

The waiters and sommelier all introduced themselves to us as they explained the food and how the evening would proceed. We were given flannels which were freshly sprayed with a signature scent to accompany the next course - and then we were ushered to meet the chef.

Luca Mascolo is a warm, funny, and gregarious host. He was eager to explain the concept of the restaurant and why each dish was created. He was passionate about ensuring that we had an amazing time and that the vegan food was equal in quality to the meat and fish dishes. Our first experience with his culinary madness was the "Campari bomb" - it literally exploded in my mouth and sent flavours dancing around my tongue. It is the first food that has actually made me giggle with childish delight.

This was swiftly followed by a tasting of the chef's tomato reduction. A perfect liquid appetiser.

We were guided to our table - we opted for the kitchen counter. There are several regular tables, but it was much more fun to be sat watching the magic of creation. Open-plan dining is nothing new, but the staff were so calm and synchronised that it felt like a meditative exercise watching them work in perfect unison.

The Smokaccia is the chef's signature focaccia. A fist-sized ball of bread, hard on the outside and impossibly pillowy on the inside. A sourdough creation of genius and perfect for soaking up the various oils and sauces served with the dishes.

What can be said about "An unusual event with Bertha"? I don't want to spoil the surprise so I'll just say this - I've never had a meal which made me laugh so much. Every moment - even reading the description - was pure joy. Why bother serving food in bowls when a ceramic egg-shell is much more fun! Almost as fun was watching it being served to other tables and seeing their reactions.

The truffle crunch was a little bite of ecstasy. This wasn't drenched in 2,4-dithiapentane - it was a perfect shaving of real truffle. To complement, I had the zero-waste potato dish. What kind of a chef thinks up potato ice-cream with red onion caramel? Again, either the chef or waiter came over to personally explain the order in which the dishes should be eaten and all the ingredients which went in to its construction.

Nearly all the food comes from Thailand - with the exception of the balsamic vinegar and wine (both from Italy) - so the food-miles are negligible. The basil and eggplant honestly tasted like they'd been plucked fresh from the dirt not five-minutes previously.

The vegan "foie gras" was next. Traditional foie gras is neither ethical nor sustainable, so this is made with local vegetables in an attempt to recreate the flavour and texture. It is described as containing a "blood explosion" and, as my spoon pierced the pineapple-glass, a pop of bright red "blood" spurted out! Again, a incredible moment of both food science, whimsy, and surprise.

It isn't just that every mouthful is delicious; the dining experience is pure theatre and filled with moments that make you gasp with delight. Such as the "fois gras" being served on a misty "lake" filled with pebbles and flowers, and then being presented with a "fortune cookie" from the goose.

There was a choice of "main" course although - as with any fine dining experience - it was barely more than a few bites. But what a few bites! Writing this, it seems silly to be so in love with a carrot but I don't care! I loved every nibble of that carrot mixed with kombucha and wasabi leaf. I grinned like a lunatic when the kombu/soy caviar pearls burst on my tongue.

A morsel of the most intense melon sorbet topped with bunt radicchio was the perfect end to the meal. A simple and fun palate cleanser. Of course there were further surprises in store!

There was a choice of desserts and both were vegan! Liz and I decided to get one each. I'm fairly sure that the impossible pistachio ice-cream was my favourite, but the dark chocolate and hazelnut was so precisely targetted to my taste-buds that I'd have to try them both again to make sure.

I wish I could remember all the tea options. Liz had the Tom Kah and I went for the ginger and honey. A little moment of calm in an over-exciting evening. We watched the chefs prepare dishes for the now-bustling restaurant.

It is amazing how full you can feel after eating just a few bites over two-and-a-half hours. I suspect the 18 course menu would have been overwhelming. How we found room for the petit fours I can't possibly imagine.

I do know how I found room for the liquid nitrogen "cooked" coconut though - humans have a separate ice-cream stomach. That's just science. Also, I've never had fermented watermelon rind before and I can't understand how my life has been complete without it.

Chef Mascolo kept making sure that we were satisfied, he was happy to chat about the processes behind the food and why he is so keen to bring a high-quality dining experience to Phuket. His home-brewed limoncello was far removed from the thick and sickly syrup which is usually proffered at the end of an Italian meal. This was a thin, light, and highly spiced twist on the classic. A perfect end to a perfect meal.

Of course, the restaurant still had some surprises for us - including a rather touching "thank you" and a cute little gift-bag to send us on our way. We were exhausted from smiling and laughing so much. Every single bite made us incredibly happy. Fine dining can be a serious and solemn experience - this felt like being in the playground of a mad professor who just wants to have fun with your taste-buds and your heart.

I'm not saying that you should stop what you're doing right now, fly to Phuket, and have the best meal of your life. I'm merely saying that if you value inventive food, prepared by a team of experts with an obsessive eye for detail, presided over by a man who obviously values creating an inclusive and joyful experience - then you should reserve a table now.

The Smokaccia isn't merely a food laboratory - it is a happiness laboratory.

123V is the literal opposite of that.

Flavours so enticing that the soy sauce and wasabi almost felt redundant. A panoply of delights, presented with care and served with a flourish.

We went for the お任せ (Omasake) - which means the chef chose 20 pieces of sushi for us. We had a 241 deal, so got that twice. Is forty sushi too much sushi? Almost!

At £35 a head, the tasting menu is cheaper than a starter and main at most central London restaurants. It isn't cheap but is is exquisite.

Every bite brought new flavours. I'd previously tried cooking some of the synthetic tuna replacement myself, but here it is done properly. Perfect texture, subtle flavours, and beautifully wrapped.

There's a small cocktail menu - with an inventive non-alcoholic list.

I had just enough room for a dessert - the sorbet sampler. Again, lush flavours delicately balanced.

The garden seating outside (covered and with heaters) was delightful on a crisp autumn evening. Weirdly, the toilets are through a boutique shop and down a flight of stairs.

With the deal, a meal for two, plus cocktails, wine, and a well-deserved tip, came to £90.

It looks like this:

Thick and juicy plant-based protein (available in "Smoked Haddock" or "Cod" flavours), wrapped in a sheet of seaweed, and coated in thick and crunchy batter. Delicious! The flavour was more intense than the normal sort of Quorn fish-style fingers, chips were as good as any I've had elsewhere, the tartare sauce and aioli were nice - although perhaps a bit cheeky to charge extra for them.

The restaurant is down a steep flight of stairs, but they also do delivery and take-away. There's a few seats available, as well as customer loos.

We couldn't finish all our chips, but the staff were happy to give us a takeaway box. So we munched them on the way home - in the rain.

My wife, Liz, and I were running slightly late for our meeting with Greg and his delightful wife Jamie. We hadn't seen them for... oooh... About a decade. Time flies when you're adulting. And we're on different sides of the Atlantic ocean. So when they announced they were visiting London, we leapt at the chance to see them again.

We bustled into the Savoy, walked up the wrong staircase, turned down the wrong corridor, and then eventually found our way to Gordon Ramsay's Savoy Grill. What a swell place for an anniversary dinner! I told you he was good at reservations.

I cast my eye around the restaurant, but couldn't see our friends. I motioned to the Maître d', "Excuse me, we're here with..."

"Of course sir, madam. Right this way!" And off he dashed through an unmarked door. We followed and found ourselves in the middle of the kitchen. For a moment I thought he'd taken us the wrong way. Or that he thought we were there to cook. For one gut-wrenching second I thought I hadn't paid a previous bill and was being sent for a bollocking from Ramsey himself. But, no.

The chefs all paused their work "Good evening sir, madam," one said. A sous (or possibly commis) hoped we had a wonderful evening. Even the plongeur looked up from the suds and smiled.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON?!

"This way, please."

We were ushered through the kitchen into what I can only describe as the most luxurious padded cell I've ever been committed to. Our friends nestled in a cosy booth, staring out of the window into the kitchen.

It is a view like none other. Yes, I've been to restaurants with open kitchen, or where a chef has cooked in front of you. But this was something else. A cross between an aquarium and dinner-theatre. It is mesmerising watching a whole team of professionals work in unison to create exquisite dishes. I assume the glass was somewhat soundproof - we certainly didn't hear any raised voices.

And the food? We went à la carte rather than go for the full tasting menu. There was a full and inventive vegetarian menu - no dull risotto or beanburgers here! My gazpacho had an intensity of freshness that I doubt I could ever recreate. The gnocchi was robust and startling. The sides were standard English fare - potatoes, carrots, salad - hard to go wrong. All the dishes were presented beautifully. There was no "molecular gastronomy" or "served on a bird's nest made of clay" nonsense. Hearty food, well proportioned, and washed down with a bottle of Chateau Macquin St Georges St Emilion.

I was too busy scoffing mine down to take any snaps, but Greg's Wellington shows off the quality.

The selection of chocolates and jellies at the end nearly finished me off.

All the dishes served were fantastic. And watching them being created was a delightful experience. The private room meant no unruly diners disrupting our reverie. And the waiters weren't hovering, trying to upsell us. Simply a perfect dining experience.

Alas, our time was limited due to our friends' theatre tickets. We exited the booth, through the kitchen, with the staff wishing us well - as we told them how marvellous their food was. Swished into the cool air of London town, still slightly staggered by the evening.

And now, of course, I have to find a way to top that for our wedding anniversary! Curse you, Greg! What am I supposed to do? Ask Paul Hollywood to come skydiving with us?!

Cost

Obviously, I insisted on paying the bill. It was Greg and Jamie's anniversary, and we hadn't seen them in donkeys' years.

Naturally, Greg insisted on paying the bill. I'd just graduated from my MSc, Liz had a new job, and they hadn't seen us in far too long.

So we compromised. I paid their share, he paid our share. Equitable!

Four adults, two courses, sweets, mineral water, and a bottle of wine, came to a bit over £100 per head.

Certainly not the most expensive meal I've eaten in London - but a fair bit pricier than a Bella Italia. I'd say a very reasonable price for such a unique venue with outstanding food.

You can make a reservation at the Chef's Table - but only if you want to really impress someone!

Let's get that out of the way first. We decided to go out to celebrate our wedding anniversary, the completion of my MSc, Liz being appointed to a committee, and... you know what? Fuck you! It has been a bastard of a pandemic and we wanted a night of ridiculously extravagant luxury dining - and boy did we get it!

Gauthier is a vegan dining experience like nothing I've had before. We took the "Grand Dîner" tasting menu. 11-courses of delicious morsels. Each one an exercise in molecular gastronomy, subtle flavours, and inventive creations.

The dining room itself is unpretentious. Cosy tables, soft lighting, friendly staff. Because it is a set menu there is a slight air of a factory line about it - as the table next to you gets a course, you get to hear the waiter's patter about the ingredients and pairing. Then they visit you and you get to hear it again.

The staff were informative - giving detailed descriptions of the food and wine. They were happy to answer questions and made the whole experienced relaxed and delightful.

It's impossible to convey just how gorgeous the dishes are. There's only a mouthful or two, but I certainly wasn't left starving by the end of it. I'm not a wine snob so, despite the best efforts of the sommelier, I couldn't recall any of their names. But each glass worked to complement the flavours of the dishes in front of us.

Over the course of a couple of hours, we tried:

• Shiitake / Kombu lemon caviar & Tapioca / Sweet Potato, Smoke and Lime
  • The most exquisite crunch of a cracker paired with the intense flavours of the toppings. A perfect start to a meal. Crisp and sensuous. A note for the humourless "we want plates" crowd - this was served on a box of moss. Deal with it, haters.
• Lettuce, Watercress, Brioche Crunch, Herbs
  • The brioche was luminous green inside, with a faintly greasy texture. It did the job of mopping up the foam which was also green. But, again, a great pairing of flavours. It felt odd to be sat in a high-class establishment while tearing at such a cartoonish piece of bread. But each bite was just perfect - especially when sampled with a delightful white wine.
• Jerusalem Artichokes - Hazelnut - Chive
  • I've never had an artichoke like this. Cooked until tender, almost melt-in-the-mouth. Plated and portioned with care so that none of the strong flavours overpowered each other.
• Roscoff Onion - Parsley - Sea lettuce
  • Onion three ways! Pickled, marmaladed, and... look, I was 4 glasses of very agreeable wine in by this point and my concentration was starting to slip. As a medley it worked wonderfully - really showcasing the versatility of the humble onion.
• Truffle - Dashi, Soft Berlingot
  • I adore freshly shaved truffles. None of this synthetic truffle oil nonsense, this was the real deal. The pasta was fresh and perfectly al dente. I only wish it had come with a tiny square of bread so I could mop up the remainder of the sauce. This didn't seem like the sort of place where you could run your finger around the plate!
• Charcoal, Samphire & Nori, Juniper Hollandaise
  • This dishes started getting more inventive and flamboyant at this point. Yes, it's huge plates with tiny portions - but they're such a treat for the eyes as with as the mouth. A tiny jug of sauce was elaborately and skilfully poured around the dishes at the table.
• Cube - Swede - Carrot - Horseradish
  • Now! This was interesting. A deconstructed roast dinner which came with a cube of 3D printed "meat". I've written before about the Redefine Meat Fake Steak - it's a strange experience. Liz and I argued over whether it was the same product served here. The waitress was happy to confirm that it was Redefine. How did this compare? Whereas the Unity Diner served a steak that had been seared on the outside, giving it a chewy texture, Gauthier's was much softer. It felt fattier and the individual strands parted easier. The flavour was much stronger. A result, we were told, of it being slow cooked for 24 hours.
• Waldorf
  • I'll cheerfully admit that, between the discussion of the steak and a wine-glass which was replenished between every course, I couldn't tell you a damned thing about this dish! I have memories of a blue-cheese style dressing which gently coated slivers of green apple. And a hazy notion that I wanted to steal the gorgeous bowl it was served in. Why, yes, I will try a drop more of the dessert wine! Let's see how it pairs with...
• Ice & Green - Citrus - Clémentine - Lovage
  • I like ice-cream, perhaps a little too much. So I was slightly disappointed with the size of this trio - a thimbleful each. But, again, this menu exudes quality over quantity. And quite right too! The citrus sorbet was somewhat unremarkable, a good palate cleanser. The clementine was the distilled essence of a thousand fruits packed into a delicate mouthful of chilled wonder. It was almost rude just how intense it was. Joyful. As for lovage? A savoury ice cream? Turns out that it is also perfect. I might have to petition Ben & Jerry to make me a tub-full of this. Do I have room for one more dessert? Well, as I'm here...
• Pear Chocolate Mirror
  • An outstanding finish. Whenever I make food with agar-agar it always ends up tasting mostly of agar-agar. But, in this, the pear was rich and fruity. The gold leaf on top was superfluous - but we're not at home to Mr & Mrs Cynicism tonight. Let's just accept that gold and biscuit go together and not have any argument. A sweet, salty, rich, chocolate, fruity explosion. So intense that I was glad that there were only a few forkfuls of it - otherwise I'd have been too full for...
• Petits fours
  • A couple miniature cakes, plated on a bed of cacao nibs. A superb end to a spectacular meal.

And, with that, we stumbled back into the night surrounded by the Soho revellers. Heads spinning and wallets aching.

The "Grand Dîner" is £95 per person. We also took the optional wine pairing, which was £75 each. Add a bottle of sparkling water and a tip, and there's very little change left from the thick end of a monkey.

Is that worth it? If you are looking for the most calories per quid, no. But that's not what you're here for. Utterly perfect flavours, wine that blows your socks off, little bites of perfection. Fundamentally, this is food that you'd never be able to recreate at home.

Would I eat at Gauthier again? If I had something worth celebrating, 100% yes. Their food is a well deserved present that you gift to yourself for a hard-won victory.

Reservations, unsurprisingly, are required.

With that, she swept off with our cocktail orders.

Unity Diner is a lovely vegan diner near Brick Lane. It has kitschy booths, funky cocktails, and a menu stacked with vegan burgers, shrimp, poutine, and - now - Redefine Meat's 3D printed synthetic meat.

Their products aren't available in UK shops yet - they seem to be launching through steakhouses, restaurants, and hotels. It's important to note that this is a plant-based product; it isn't Synthetarian lab-grown bio-flesh. Rather than a uniform slab of protein like a Quorn steak, this is built to mimic the variable texture of cow muscle.

After a plate of garlic "prawns" (the same as you'd find in any vegan Chinese wholesaler) and two excellent cocktails, I received a big plate of steak, chips, and peas. Excuse the dimly lit photo:

I've not eaten a steak for close to quarter of a century. So I was curious what I'd make of it.

The texture when cutting in to it was incredible. A tough exterior - unlike the usual faux-steaks, I really could have done with a steak knife! The internals looked... stringy? Again, completely different to the usual consistency of any veggie-burger I'd had before. The insides were vaguely pink - a bit like the "Moving Mountains" burgers with their fake blood made of beetroot.

All of which leads to an incredible mouthfeel. The outside was seared and chewy, the inside tender and flaky. My carnivorous companion thought it to be closer to salt-beef than steak.

And the taste? Again, I've been a salad-muncher for half my life; don't ask me how it compare to real meat. But it was... nice. It had a good balance of salt and fat. There was no gristle, it wasn't overly spiced or burnt. Just a good solid bit of flavour. Of course, when covered with diane sauce it was indistinguishable from the real deal.

So, as a chunk of salt-beef drowned in sauce, it was pretty good.

Would I eat it again? That's a tough one. I didn't experience the transcendence that the waitress warned me about. It didn't freak me out to eat something with a similar taste and texture to meat. It was delicious. But, at the same time, it was only steak and chips. That's the kind of thing I associate with someone who doesn't want to try anything more adventurous than what they were force-fed for school dinners. The chips were fine. The peas were peas. It was a fascinating experience for what was, ultimately, a fairly dull meal.

If I were at a steak-house with my meat-eater friends, I'd probably order it rather than a disappointing mushroom risotto. But, in a veggie restaurant, I think I'd rather try something a little more adventurous. Or, at least, something I couldn't easily cook at home.

Anyway, Unity Diner is a great restaurant. Yes, it's mostly all various forms of "fake" meats - you're not going here for a quinoa health kick - but the menu is inventive, varied, and delicious. The cocktail menu is superb.

The cost for a starter, two cocktails, a steak, a burger, and the tip came to about £80.

My brain was mush by the time we found the restaurant - a little out of the way and nestled inside what looks like an office block - so we ordered one of the sushi set menus.

(My brain was too mushy to take a photo - but the menu is accurate.)

It was incredible. The waiter gave us strict instructions on the order in which to eat everything. That was absolutely necessary - and meant the meal finished with a burst of mango sushi.

Well, it didn't quite end there. If I see a vegan tiramisu, I'm going to grab it with both hands! Well, I got two spoons, so Liz helped me with it.

The wait staff were incredibly helpful in explaining the menu, teaching us about which apps to use to get around town, and and giving us directions afterwards.

Accepts credit cards, free WiFi, and cosily decorated.

Secondly, after climbing a mountain of stairs, marvelling at the wonders therein, and being stared at by hundreds of monkeys - you're going to be hungry. So treat yourself to lunch at Rani's.

A varied vegetarian menu - helpfully illustrated. Great big piles of food served on a banana leaf - you can't go wrong. Just spicy enough to be interesting without being overpowering. Large jugs of daal and condiments. A wide variety of delicious drinks - including fresh-cut coconut.

Fast and friendly service. Incredible value for money, and heartily refreshing while you wait for your legs to recover.

They accept credit cards, but there is a minimum card charge. Oh well, just order more food. No free WiFi - so chat to your friends.