Restaurant review The Lawn Bistro, 67 High Street, London.

The actual tennis of Wimbledon is played in Southfields, two Tube stops away from the famous suburb, but that doesn't stop the world and his tennis partner from descending on the Village like the Assyrians on Jerusalem. What they find to eat when they arrive can be uninspiring. For every good, reliable restaurant (such as San Lorenzo Fuoriporto at the bottom of the hill), there are too many yawn-making gastropubs, chains and iffy spice houses.

The Village, a trendily bourgeois zig-zag of bars and pricey clothing shops, has seen a fair turnover of classy restaurants, all aching to be the one that plays host to the Williams sisters or to Andy Murray on their night of triumph. And bang in the middle of the Village's main drag, on a site formerly occupied by a stolid joint called Lydon's, is the latest challenger for the title: The Lawn.

Its owner is a Surrey-dwelling Uzbekistani called Akbar Ashurov, unknown to me as a restaurateur, but its chef, Ollie Couillaud, has an impressive track record. He cut his teeth at La Trompette, Chiswick's finest French eating-house; he wielded a mean cleaver at Tom's Kitchen; he could be found in the best hotels, including the Dorchester Grill and the Grosvenor House restaurant called Bord'eaux, whose annoying Hear'Say-style apostrophe was surely one reason for its early closure.

It's surprising, given this fancy CV, that The Lawn is so unpretentious. From the website photos and the sample prix-fixe menu, I went expecting a hushed and priestly atmosphere. Instead you walk into a noisy, rather crowded, extremely friendly neighbourhood bistro.

The décor is pared-down chic, cautiously neutral. The walls are painted (I'm guessing) that Farrow & Ball shade of grey called Elephant's Breath, the button-back sofa is grey with orange buttons, the mirrors are artfully distressed, the pictures apparently a job-lot of images specially selected to leave no trace in the memory. But it seems rude to carp at the fittings when the main thing you experience in The Lawn is the eager chattering of a Friday-night crowd unintimidated by serious high-end cuisine or hefty prices.

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