One year cancer-free is a fine excuse to celebrate

There's nothing like a proper brush with death to teach you the value of this wonderful, precious, extraordinary thing called life. Were it not for a mammogram thrown into an executive health check 14 months ago, my mortality would still be growing inside of me, and by this point I would ... in wasteful ignorance ... have one foot solidly in the grave. Instead, I'm now acutely aware of the glories of the simple things in life. I'm less stressed, more appreciative of my friends, more likely to savour joys great and small, more respectful of the privilege of getting out of bed in the morning.

Thanks to quick action and the magic of modern medicine, I've been through the treatment, recovered, and now only need to focus on cancer fears every six months when it's time for a fresh scan to confirm that the danger has stayed away. Do stress levels rise before those scans? Absolutely. But it's a beautifully sweet moment when my surgeon smiles broadly and tells me I'm all clear.

What a fine excuse to celebrate. And to do so in sardanapalian surroundings. (Sardanapalian = excessively luxurious and sensual, after Sardanapal, an Assyrian king of legendary decadence. I don't get a chance to use that word enough.)

Maze is the newest entry in the esteemed London Top 10 restaurant ranking from Harden's guide. It's yet another horse in the Gordon Ramsay stable, and the man has another winner on his hands. Innovative concept, beautiful surroundings, exquisite food, magnificent tastes and smells. Heaven.

The concept is ... no, I'm not kidding ... French tapas. Imagine the most carefully constructed, balanced and complete entrees. Now cut the portion size by two thirds. The presentation is still artistic, the tastes just as perfect as a full plate, but done in miniature. This gives you the chance to try multiple items without feeling guilty. Or, if your PR agency is treating you and your dining partner is equally adventurous, the concept allows you to sign up for the seven course tasting menu without guilt. Well, without a lot of guilt.

We arrived at the discrete location on Grosvenor Square (thankfully the summer growth on the trees blocks the horrific view of the American embassy, surrounded by the ugly detritus of concrete crash barriers, warning signs and armed guards.) and sank into comfortable leather chairs in the elegant bar. My account director, in possession of my good medical news, had called ahead and the pink champagne was on ice. The interior was elegant, sophisticated, calming and quiet ... although the latter might only be because it was a Monday night. The decor actually felt African to me, though not in any easily identifiable way. Browns and creams, geometric designs, natural materials. Reminded me strongly of some of the high end design I saw in Cape Town. The link to the Maze of the name wasn't entirely obvious, other than in the spiral, labyrinth-like design of the carpet beneath one of the dining areas.

No matter how elegant, the room quickly took a distant second to the amazing (another Maze reference?) food that started rolling out of the kitchen. At £55 I'd wouldn't say this tasting menu was cheap, but good value for money. Individual dishes were around £10, so you came out well ahead of an a la carte experience. And with two people, there was no need to make any choices. We were able to get, and share, one of everything on offer. In the interest of full disclosure, and because I know you want the details, here's what we ate.

Course 1: Devon crab and summer squash soup with corn puree. (A concentrated aroma that almost knocked me out of my chair.)

Course 2: Marinated beetroot slices, sairass cheese, pine nuts and cabernet sauvignon dressing. (Like three little white heads wearing round red hats, marching in precision across the plate.)

Course 3: Honey and soy roasted quail with Landes fois gras and spiced pear chutney (Has some kitchen magician figured out how to reduce pieces of meat like a sauce? Tiny thighs with the concentrated flavour of a entire bird) and Roasted Orkney sea scallops with cured ham and maple syrup, quail's egg and mushy peas (yes, sounds like there was a lot on the plate, but it was an elegant and limited assembly of geometric shapes. I've never seen a quail's egg so small. One wonders if there are five-year-olds in the kitchen to provide hands small enough to manipulate this stuff.)

Course 4: Duart salmon with fine beans, fois gras, smoked bacon and verjus reduction (The only dish that didn't blow me away. Excellent, but equal to similar dishes had elsewhere.) and Roasted Scottish turbot with hollandaise, jersey royals and pickled cucumber (Fresh dill used for the pickling made an explosive backbone for the whole dish)

Course 5: Roasted rack of lamb with braised shoulder and four onions (I'm not a lamb fan, but I could eat this every night) and Braised Suffolk pork belly and cheek with spiced lentils, confit of baby leek and parsnip puree (Hadn't had pork belly before, thinking of it as hunks of fat consumed by poor southerners. This was fantastic, though maybe not what they serve in Mississippi. And certainly not lean.)

I was flagging at this point, but having worked through fish, fowl and hoof, it was time for sweets.

Frankly, any meal with three desserts has an unfair advantage

Course 6: Maze tiramisu coffee granite and chocolate croquant (Once again, deeply concentrated flavours, this time with a sharpness that cut pleasantly through the richness of course 5)

Course 7: Bitter chocolate and hazelnut parfait with salted caramel jelly and milk mouse and Coconut panna cotta with black olive caramel, white chocolate granite (In both cases, a bizarre mix of sweet and salty that worked beautifully, one taste heightening the experience of another.)

At this point I'd crossed the portals of perfection and decided that this was definitely in my life's top 10 dining experiences. (Frankly, any meal with three desserts has an unfair advantage on that list.) Reviewing the menu today, I think it might be in my top five.

So top marks to Maze. If you have an excuse to embrace your sardanapalian side, this is the place. Carpe diem, carpe vita.