We did it. We went to a restaurant for the first time since mid-March. And you know what? It wasn’t that different. The food came on plates and tasted nice. We used cutlery. The wine made us mellow. The experience felt pretty familiar in pretty much every respect.

We didn’t think we would do it so soon after the big re-opening. Indeed, we have admired the courage of those restaurants that are waiting a while. However, Tuula had three days’ leave and we wanted to do things in and around London. What would we usually do on holiday but eat lunch out?

So, we went to Noble Rot. We like Noble Rot. It is close to my former office. The food is consistently excellent. We read their wine magazine. They trace their heritage to The Sportsman and its genre-busting impact on eating out. Most important, we reckoned they would handle the new normal well – attending to the details so that the overall experience was as good as ever.

We were right. The restaurant has expanded into the small bar area, meaning that it can operate at about 50% capacity. The back room was reasonably spread out anyway, with booths and nooks that now suit the new arrangements.

The food was at it always has been: seasonal, a mix of classic and sometimes surprising elements, simple yet innovative, a strong focus on the quality and distinctiveness of each ingredient.

Starters were the highlight. Tuula had the ever-present slip sole with smoked butter, a variation on a dish forever associated with the Sportsman. It was utterly simple, almost frugal on the plate, yet I doubt there is a more consistently-perfect plate of fish in London. It may not look much but boy, does it deliver. You gently pull away the top fillet. The bone lifts off as though it has done no more than brush the flesh. I was still five days away from a haircut and I could happily have run the bone through my mop, Flintstones-style. Duck hearts with pickled cherries was also an excellent choice – the cherries, mellowed by pickling, supplied subtle contrast without bossing the other flavours as they sometimes can.

I wasn’t wholly convinced that Tuula’s lamb rump with aubergine puree and a bright olive tapenade was right for the day. The flavours were precise and lovely and sat together like the oldest of friends. But it was a weighty dish, making it feel more suited to later in the year, a little whirl of lamb belly emphasising the point. By contrast, monkfish on a summer vegetable pistou was undeniably summery, with flavours strident enough to carry the fish. It looked like I had gone for the less substantial option but I didn’t think that once my bowl was empty.

We shared a cherry bakewell pie, which kept up the standards. It suited my not-overly sweet tooth.

One of Noble Rot’s own bottlings – the Cuvee Rotters Fleurie – went remarkably well with everything, even the pie. The chewy cherry and red fruit flavours were big enough for the lamb and delicate enough for the sole. It was hidden away on the list, part of a small batch, but we were glad we sought it out. Noble Rot’s wine list is really quite something: substantial without being gilded in the manner of restaurants that consider themselves at the finer end; while it can be pricey, you know that every wine is there for a reason.

It was difficult to find fault. Except for my reservation about the lamb – a quibble – this was exactly as we expected.  And dare-I-say, exactly what we wanted? Noble Rot back doing what Noble Rot does best.

What was different? We were a bit more spread out, but not so much that it felt wrong. A bottle of hand sanitiser arrived at the table as we did, rather as salt and pepper used to be plonked down to signify that a table was occupied. That made a difference in terms of not worrying about the bottles, plates and cutlery. The dispenser (tastefully, naturally) became part of the experience. The staff wore masks and kept their distance, but not so that they seemed at all inattentive. They remained as friendly, knowledgeable and enthusiastic as ever.

Jay Rayner wrote about the thrill of someone else cooking and serving, and Grace Dent celebrated returning her posh pans to their decorative purpose. We were not thinking that way. I often consider eating out a missed opportunity to cook, even four months on (maybe Tuula feels differently….). I even quite enjoy washing up. But eating out again was still a thrill: for the excellence of the food; for the conviviality and shared experience; and perhaps even more for the idea of doing something pretty much as we have always done it.