An utterly irresistible argument for indulgence

AMBASSADORS Clubhouse wants you to party. Never mind the palpable, cuffing season vibe-shift towards boxsets, radiator-warmed pyjamas and cloistered frugality.

- Ambassadors Clubhouse

Almost everything about restaurant group JKS’s much-anticipated return to the big ticket hospitality fray — the chilli-spiked Punjabi margaritas, the regally rich, £45 lobster korma, the basement club that stays open until 2am — is like the decadent equivalent of a brimming shot glass devilishly pressed into your palm.

So, I suppose, there is a sort of irony to the fact that, during my time there, one of the constants was the toil of a pair of neighbouring diners who had brought their very young children along. A recalcitrant toddler was coaxed into his chair with the dangled promise of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on an iPhone; his four-week-old brother was fed beneath a draped muslin. “Sorry about all this,” said the dad, late on, having recognised me. “I think the team here were a bit worried that us sitting next to you might affect your review.”