JEREMY SMITH finds the opulent setting of the Grand Café the perfect antidote to a wet Saturday afternoon.

Wandering home, as I do, down Oxford’s High Street after another day of over-achieving, I often find myself staring through the windows of the Grand Café, seduced as always by its romantic opulence and period charm.

An Oxford landmark, and deservedly so, the last time we reviewed this eaterie, the Guide’s food editor Katherine MacAlister found herself spending more time analysing the ‘dish of the day’ (who, incidentally, just happened to be young and handsome) than enjoying the fruits of the café’s culinary delights.

Yet Ms MacAlister’s roving eye and flushed face can be forgiven – after all, one of the attractions of stopping here, either to drink or eat, is that its staff, waiters and waitresses alike, look like they’ve just stepped out of Central Casting (and while we’re on the subject, did you know singer Will Young used to work here?).

But high cheek bones and dimpled chins perfectly complement the building’s marbled pillars, mirrored walls and dark wood flooring, all liberally tinged with Kentia Palms and diffused lighting.

So one Saturday, a few weeks back, with an appropriately vivacious guest in tow, I decided I’d drop in for a bite of lunch. And what perfect timing it proved too.

It being August of course, outside was dark, cold and pouring with rain.

Inside however, and sat by the window, we felt warm, and cossetted and... well, cosy.

And despite the fact the restaurant was packed full and littered with slowly drying coats, umbrellas blown inside out and carrier bags sloshing with rain water and perishable items, it somehow never felt cramped or damp – just snug and deliciously timeless.

Normally, restaurants, bars and cafés on Saturdays, particularly when it’s cold and wet AND lunchtime, can feel more like busy way stations for the lost and fractious than oases of calm and shelter.

But at the Grand Café it seems, no matter how flustered you might feel when wandering in, or how many soaked-through clothes you have to take off in order to gain some semblance of dignity, the café’s inimitable disposition always seems able to rally the spirits.

As it was, surrounded by other diners who were all clearly delighted to have found sanctuary here rather than in one of the city centre’s chain of high street eateries, we ordered.

I plumped for the smoked salmon and scrambled eggs (£7), my guest the caesar salad (£6.50); both were beautifully prepared, presented and enormously tasty, and were washed down with glasses of prosecco (£3.95) and freshly squeezed pear juice (£3.50).

Sadly, the downpour only worsened, yet despite walking back out into a weather front better suited to the North Sea, we at least felt like we’d wiled away a couple of hours in chic Capri instead.

* The Grand Café, 84 The High Street, Oxford 01865 204463 Open daily 9am to 11pm