Food & Drink: Generating interest

SHOREDITCH ELECTRICITY SHOWROOM; 39a Hoxton Square, London N1, tel: 0171 739 6934. Open Monday 6pm-12am; Tuesday to Thursday 11am-12am; Friday to Saturday 11am-1am; Sunday 11am-11pm. Prices for three courses from around pounds 15. Credit cards accepted

SO WHEN EXACTLY did the re-generation of the Old Street/Shoreditch/Hoxton Square triangle from late-Victorian industrial decay to neo-swinging stamping ground of London's smart art set really kick off? Opinions differ, and are hotly argued. Purists maintain that this wedge of somewhat foreboding streets on the north-eastern fringes of the City - poised, for those with an eye to allegory, between the towers of finance at Broadgate Circus and the Dickensian sprawl of the East End - married food and fine art nearly 30 years ago, when the artists Gilbert and George moved into their house in Fournier Street and made a daily routine of visiting the Market Cafe, just over the road. And, needless to say, it has taken the rest of us nearly 30 years to catch up with them.

But Hoxton got really hip in the summer of 1996, when a group of Young British Artists staged The Fete Worse Than Death. And the subsequent media focus on Young British Art - displayed, out of necessity, a long way from the luxury of the Bond and Cork Street galleries - meant that the post-modern bohemia this small group of artists were creating beyond the no man's land of Curtain Road, suddenly caught the watery eyes of those worn out with Soho.

Today, the area around Hoxton Square has become so fashionable that cynics claim it will suffer the same translation from "colourful" to "tourist trap" that has befallen Covent Garden, Carnaby Street and Camden Town. Certainly, the speed of Hoxton's regeneration, as measured in house-prices and stylish restaurants, has been breathtaking. We can only hope that it won't become a case of "death by cappuccino" within six months.

But this seems unlikely to happen, for a variety of very good reasons. In the first place, the Hoxton triangle is comprised of a labyrinth of narrow streets which connect the featureless and uninviting thoroughfares of Old Street and Shoreditch High Street, so unless you know where you're going it's a difficult bit of geography to crack. Taxis cruising the affluent City streets are somehow offended when you ask them to take you there. And in the second place, there still isn't that much for style-hungry shoppers to look at: a smattering of chilled-out interior design and furniture shops specializing in high-fashion mid-century modern fittings is more or less it. It is almost the idea of Hoxton which has become so trendy - which is only fitting for an area which probably boasts more conceptual artists per square mile than anywhere else.

This being said, the area has produced a dizzying array of incredibly good bars and restaurants - all of which appear to be crammed with effortlessly beautiful young people, most of whom look about 12 but nearly all of whom are, at a guess, working on a piece of installation art. Both Cantaloupe (a pub and dining-room) and Home (a spacious basement divided into what feels like a subterranean chill-out room, furnished with the contents of a rectory, and a cosy area for serious eating) are excellent.

But fast becoming the focal point of Hoxton's restaurant boom is the confusingly named Shoreditch Electricity Showroom, which is housed, needless to say, in the former premises of the real Shoreditch Electricity Showroom. There are probably a few people who still wander in to buy a kettle or complain about their heating bills. On a corner of Hoxton Square, the Shoreditch Electricity Showroom is now a bar, basement gallery, roof garden, restaurant and, some would argue, a way of life.

The main bar area is vast and glass-fronted, with the ubiquitous mid- century modern styling of linear sofas, Battoya chairs (fake or repro, it's hard to tell) and a long minimalist bar which creates the wonderful effect of never seeming crowded, even when the place is packed to the gills. A delightful touch of post-modern whimsy is added by a floor-to- ceiling colour photograph of an alpine scene - rather like the sort of pictures you used to find on 500-piece jigsaw puzzles - which takes up the whole of one corner. A cheerful platoon of spider plants (hitherto the flora of choice in drab staffrooms and civil service offices) assumes a new aura of sophistication when placed in such bright and relaxed surroundings.

This would all be good enough, but the Shoreditch Electricity Showroom can also boast some of the finest cooking at affordable prices in London. The restaurant itself is thoughtfully separated from the busy bar area, and is comprised of elegant grey booths with no decoration save the functional aesthetic of a payphone and the illuminated box-sign of Fire Exit. But this is a place which oozes minimalist chic rather than ironic understatement, and the effect is rather like eating in the environmental equivalent of a Kraftwerk record.

The functionalism of the setting, however, serves to highlight the beautiful presentation of the food, currently arriving in autumnal shades: Parma ham with rocket and capers as a starter, or roast duck with figs and raddichio. The Showroom's resident chef, Elaine Chalmers, has a brilliance for combining flavour, flair and imagination, and her menu for the week also acknowledged the fact that people who go out for dinner on chilly October nights tend to be really hungry. Settled with a warming and affable bottle of organic red Greek Wine ("organic wine, that's sooo stylish," said my friend), between happy mouthfuls of fiery chargrilled chilli squid, I hurled myself at my Mini Foccaccio with Artichoke, Goat's Cheese and Rosemary, and was instantly brought to that pleasing plateau of confidence in the meal to come.

Elaine Chalmers cooks with an eye to the flavours and textures of both Italian and Thai food, but somehow manages to bring a third perspective to these combinations which is entirely and deliciously her own. Given that there wasn't a single main course which cost over 10 quid, I could - as one of those irritating vegetarians who eat fish - have chosen from Aubergine Parmigiana with Peppery Greens, Grilled Lime Prawns with Stir- fried Noodles, or Roasted Yams with Tomatoes, Cous Cous and Moroccan spices. As it was, I went straight for the fillet of salmon because it was served on a risotto of courgette, basil and mint. I don't know what happens chemically when a piece of salmon hits a risotto with these ingredients, but whatever it is, it seems to make a kind of flawless sequence-dance of all their respective flavours.

Indurate to my pleading, my companion ordered Herb-Braised Rabbit with Roast Potatoes and Lemon, which he reported as "excellent" and underlined the point by returning a plate that was dish-washer clean.

To finish - and it was a chilly night, and we were hungry - we each polished off a bowl of Warm Plum Compote and French Cinnamon Toast with Vanilla Ice-Cream. This wonderful juxtaposition of the very hot and the very cold - particularly as the collision was softened by the melting kindliness of the autumn fruit - was like the bust of autumn on a plate. And still the best was yet to come: the bill. Given that the wine was pounds 14.50 and a bottle of fizzy water pounds 3.30, the total for the food - three courses each, for two - was a little over pounds 30. These post-modern young Bohemians don't half know how to look after themselves.