Nobody I know goes to the Savoy Grill any more. It used to be a place to be seen – probably the most important such restaurant in the business community. The staff were dressed formally, delivering a discreet and respectful service. Customers were addressed by their titles, where such existed. The food was reminiscent of country-house cooking – or, sometimes, school dinners – and seldom surprised the palate. The wine list was deeply traditional, with, of course, a heavy emphasis on claret. No one snapped their fingers at waiters, because a politely raised eyebrow would do the job. No one turned up in T-shirts and shorts, and no one brought young children. The Grill was a glorious throwback to the England before multiculturalism, classless societies, royal exposés and general uncertainty.