It also happens to be majestic venue for Spring Restaurant.

I meet my friend Cecilia by the dancing fountains and we enter a graceful and feminine drawing room flooded with natural light. A huge arrangement of branches cloaked in spring blossoms stretches toward the soaring ceilings.  Understated and elegant and yet so warm and unpretentious, there is an instant sense of well-being and balance. With growing anticipation we are greeted by friendly staff wearing relaxed uniforms designed by the off-beat Egg. I imagine Spring would lift your mood even on the greyest of English days!

Now one of Britain’s most celebrated chefs, Australian Skye Gyngell opened Spring to great acclaim, as much for her delightful food as for the beautifully renovated dining room. Formerly head chef at Petersham Nurseries Café, where she was guided by what she saw growing and blooming around her, Skye is renowned for her instinctive seasonal cooking, creating superb, simple dishes from exceptional produce.

We peruse the Set Lunch Menu and opt for two courses for £27.50. The sun is streaming in through the huge, arched windows and an art instillation of petals (or perhaps they are butterflies) float over the duck egg linen walls like they are caught in the wind. It is difficult to imagine this used to be the Inland Revenue. There’s something poetic about the place. In the evenings the room is candlelit, which makes for a more golden, romantic light. Today, the room is nearly full and it’s an interesting mix of guests here in the middle of academia, with locals who work in the arts and walk-ins from Somerset House.

We start with a dish of simple grilled prawns with spinach and romesco, a lemon cheek with the leaf still on, a glass of fresh 2013 Antonio Sanz Verdejo Rueda. Skye works closely with a farm at Hereford, three hours west on the Welsh border, to ensure the best seasonal produce. We chat to the waiter who tells us that it depends what arrives in the van as to what ends up on the menu. Everything is utilised and treated respectfully – it’s very much roots to tips cooking. There will be nettles in soon and flowers from the farm.

I choose the Tagliata of veal with bitter greens to follow, while Cecilia opts for the Mackerel with beetroots, chard and horseradish. For dessert we decide to share an Almond tart with crème fraîche – at once crispy and crumbly, buttery and nutty. It smells like a batch of homemade ANZAC biscuits pulled straight from the oven. Head pastry chef, Sarah Johnson, trained at Chez Panisse. There is also ice cream made with beautiful fruit from the farm and house-made cordial teas; mulberry leaf tea is available all year round and is very popular.

As an after lunch treat, we visit one of the finest small museums in the world in the north wing of Somerset House. The Courtauld Gallery’s collection of paintings, drawings, sculpture and decorative art spans the Renaissance to the 21^st century. The gallery is most renowned for its outstanding collection of Impressionist and Post-Impressionist art and here we admire masterpieces such as Manet’s A Bar at the Folies-Bergère and Degas’ Two Dancers on a Stage, among works by Monet, Van Gogh and Cézanne.

A wonderful finish to a most memorable lunch at Spring Restaurant, London.

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Covent Garden is divided by the main thoroughfare of Long Acre, and here on the southern side sits the piazza and most of the grand buildings, theatres and cultural facilities. It’s behind the curtain, however, in the streets back and beyond, that you will find the area’s full scale of delights.

Bloomsbury Flowers’ signature is ‘seasonal English country garden’ and ‘wild field flowers’, and it’s easy to be enchanted.

‘At the moment it’s all lilacs, tulips, Guelda roses, and ranunculus,’ says owner Stephen Wicks, who runs the shop with his partner Mark Welford. Both are former dancers with the Royal Ballet and supply the flowers for the Royal Opera House. They have also opened a second shop in the courtyard of the stylish Ham Yard Hotel.

Compared to Paris, which is filled with corner florists, I was surprised to find so few in London. ‘Many have shut their doors, the rent is prohibitive,’ says Stephen. The shop uses a lot of foliage and herbs, and as much English produce as they can to support local growers. There are peonies all year round, however, and they deliver right across London – handy to know if you wish to order a particularly beautiful bouquet for a special occasion.

I often find myself asking the owners of boutiques I am drawn to for their favourite addresses nearby. It’s a sure way to dig out places that the locals love and frequent, and I enquire about Stephen’s favourite dining spots in Covent Garden.

A couple of doors up is Great Queen Street Restaurant. ‘It’s cosy and busy, and very English. We love their seven-hour roast leg of lamb with a hot pan of potatoes. It’s perfect for a slow Sunday lunch.’ He takes me to meet the owner. I discover that on Sundays, depending on the time of year, there’s also traditional roast Swaledale beef with Yorkshire pudding & all the trimmings, and suet crust steak & ale pie. I put it on my list to return to (although it’s rather pricey). Just as heartening is that fact that it’s part of the Anchor & Hope Group who own three premier pubs in London: The Canton Arms, The Camberwell Arms and the Anchor & Hope. Like most restaurants in the area, they do a pre-theatre menu.

‘Great Queen Street dates from 1612 and was one of the first streets in London,’ says Stephen. ‘Our shop was at one time occupied by an importer of Dutch tulip bulbs.’ The street is also home to milliner Stephen Jones, and Walker Slater, Edinburgh’s tweed tailor.

Stephen’s other favourites nearby are The Ivy Market Grill, and Jar Kitchen, an imaginative little café that’s just opened up around the corner on Drury Lane but feels far from the bustle of the market and theatre crowd. Berlin-raised chef Dominik Moldenhauer comes straight from Dinner by Heston Blumenthal, having previously headed up the kitchen at The Greenhouse in Perth, and there is indeed an Aussie feel to the some of the dishes. An Ottolenghi-style vegetarian dish of mixed grain salad with roasted heirloom carrots, coconut yoghurt and pomegranate tempts for lunch. The Covent Garden food renaissance continues.

As Stephen wraps a spray of lily of the valley in a flourish of lilac tissue paper he says, ‘Oh, but you must go to Petersham Nurseries! I just want to move in…and the food!’ (Yes, I did. I agree. It’s divine.). He pushes the spray under my nose and says, ‘Smell this, isn’t it amazing? For you, it’s the first of the season.’

I leave with my scented spring lilies and a smile on this lovely spring day, and make my way towards Somerset House for lunch at Spring Restaurant (stay tuned), past the imposing main entrance of the Royal Opera House. If you can’t make a ballet, backstage tours are available for a behind-the-scenes glimpse of the sumptuous auditorium, and afternoon tea is served in the Paul Hamlyn Hall. Originally intended as a fruit and flower market, the hall was famously depicted in Pygmalion, and as the Covent Garden market setting for the musical My Fair Lady.

‘With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy.’

Oscar Wilde

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Between posts, a lot of water has flowed under the bridge, but my personal highlight has been becoming a grandmother. Precious little Lila Grace is now seven month’s old.

To quote A. A. Milne in Winnie The Pooh, ‘Sometimes, the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.’

Lila, seven month’s old, rugged up for a walk.

At times, however, the waters have been rather rough and choppy. I lost my dear mother just a month ago, a woman who had an incredible capacity to spread love and joy, and I miss her every day. I am blessed to have so many cherished memories.

Also, as some of you know, a big project that I was working on went pear-shaped. Sadly, months of research and writing on London ended up in the bottom draw for a rainy day. I count myself as lucky, though, to have spent an extended time in the company of a good old friend and Londoner, who not only put me up, but showed me around and madly photographed and sketched her way around town with me. I first met Cecilia, an illustrator, when we both lived in New York many moons ago when our girls were young.

Anyway, time is ticking by and at the risk of all this wonderful material going out of date, I have decided to put a few favourite London addresses on the blog in the next little while.

The first address is a restaurant in Kensington called Maggie Jones’s. On the doorstep of the parks, the elegant neighbourhood embodies classic London charm.

Maggie Jones’s

World-weary and hankering for a warm and cosy place for an early dinner, Cecilia and I are immediately drawn to the window where a waiter is lighting candles. We peer in. He comes to the door and greets us with a smile. ‘We are open,’ he says, and before we know it we are deliberating over Maggie’s Creamed Fish Pie and a crispy roast chicken with bread sauce and gravy.

It is pure serendipity that we have stumbled across this rustic restaurant off Kensington Church Street after a long day of scribbling notes and shooting in the rain. All wood and warmth and snug alcoves, Maggie’s feels like an old English farmhouse and is filled with tall country dressers and higgledy-piggledy bits and bobs.  It’s a nice change from the pared-back restaurants about. The dining rooms ramble over three rickety floors joined by creaking stairs upon which homey fare is dashed up from the kitchen on vintage English plates. Refusing to bow to the whims of food fashion, Maggie’s offers a menu groaning with traditional pies, puds and classic British food in generous portions. Above all, however, its long-standing popularity hinges on the high quality dishes, friendly staff and authentic feel.

Rustic bread and chunky crudités appear, and a blackboard with specials is propped against the wall. French wine rules the roost, sold by the bottle and half bottle and there is also a touch of French on the menu. Onion Soup is a speciality. In fact, a large French enclave resides in South Kensington, which is home to the French Lycée. Other entrées include globe artichoke with hollandaise sauce, duck liver pâté and prawn cocktail. It feels like a throwback to a fabulous early 80s dinner party!

Christine the maître d’ comes over for a chat. We discover that the family-run restaurant opened in 1963. The current owner, Englishman Peter Frankel, is elderly now but still comes for lunch in his racing green Jag with his two English bulldogs. Our piping hot mains arrive. By now we are ravenous and I plunge a serving spoon into Maggie’s Creamed Fish pie with its piped potato top. Swirling aromas escape. It is packed with prawns and cod, has a lovely texture and a sauce full of flavour. Cecilia opts for a Chicken and Artichoke Pie with a golden pastry lid and we share sides of green beans, and peas and bacon. Everything looks so homemade and delicious we could be in a friend’s kitchen.

By 7.30 pm the place is heaving, and many diners appear to be local regulars who are greeted like old friends. English couples and families; kids dressed neatly in Boden. What appeals is that while it’s incurably romantic and intimate enough for a special occasion, it’s a place you can feel equally comfortable in straight from a rugged day of exploring the parks.

Christine also tells us that the restaurant is named as an alias for Princess Margaret who often used to dine here, booking under the name ‘Maggie Jones’. As we speak, Prince Michael arrives, grandson of King George V and the Queen’s first cousin. He is a regular and is discreetly ushered to his table with his black Labrador, Shadow.

‘We have a lot of game on the menu in autumn,’ says Christine. ‘In summer it’s more fish, savoury tarts and salads, and on a cold winter’s night you will find casseroles, soups and pies.’ Indeed, it strikes me as more of a cosy, come-in-from-the-rain sort of spot. Steaks are also staples, along with dishes such as Grilled Rack of English Lamb with rosemary & garlic, and Steak & Kidney Pie. There’s a reasonably priced lunch menu and the traditional Sunday lunch is popular, three set courses for £21.75.

Desserts are jolly and conventional: Sherry Trifle, Burnt Cream (the original Cambridge University recipe), Bread & Butter Pudding and Spotted Dick. We share a crisp apple crumble topped with slowly melting ice cream and served on pretty crockery. If you’re feeling mellow, you may wish to finish with a Malt Whiskey, or a wee drop of vintage Port and a wedge of Stilton.

‘Make a remark,’ said the Red Queen; ‘it’s ridiculous to leave all the conversation to the pudding.’

Lewis Carroll Through the Looking Glass

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