CALL me a cynic but when I heard GR was dropping into the kitchen at his Rhodes South restaurant, I didn’t actually expect him to do much cooking.

I thought he’d probably breeze in late afternoon, pat his chefs on the back (or clip them around the ear) and sprinkle some stardust on the dishes, before blushing as diners lapped up “his” celebrity fare.

I was half-right.

While guests and regulars did wax lyrical about the cuisine, he certainly hadn’t sauntered in tardy to take the glory.

An eminent workoholic, Gary had apparently been slaving away in the kitchen since 7am and when I turned up to interview him mid afternoon, he was too busy preparing dinner to talk to me. The staff weren’t telling me porkies either, as I sneaked a peek into the kitchen to find him grafting away.

As you’d expect with a schedule like his, Gary rarely cooks at Rhodes South so this was something of a special occasion.

Kicking off the evening was a sunset he must have been praying for, a money-can’t-buy panorama from a restaurant charging £120 a head for the six-course, celebrity special.

However, this modest price tag was reasonable value considering what diners got for their money.

Billed as a “champagne evening,” the bubbly flowed freely and came from two of France’s most prestigious purveyors, Perrier-Jouët and G. H. Mumm.

As guests slowly trickled through the doors, waiters quietly slipped amoungst us with moreish canapés and topped-up flutes. Unusually, tonight’s food was being tailored to suit six different champagnes, as Gary explained once we were all seated.

Mercifully we didn’t have to wait long for the first pairing to arrive, which came in the form of white asparagus soup and a glass of Perrier-Jouët Grand Brut NV.

A perfect opener, the silky smooth soup was a ringing endorsement for British asparagus and managed to goad new flavours out of the Grand Brut.

Almost invisibly waiters brought out the next course, a foie gras terrine and duck apple salad, which was washed down with a Perrier-Jouët Cuvee Belle Epoque 2002.

Not one for ethical eaters, the fois gras was a veritable explosion of flavours compared to the subtlety of the asparagus soup and as good as the duck was, it was definitely the bridesmaid of the dish.

Champagne, scallop and langoustine risotto was the difficult third album and although there were rave reports echoing from fellow diners, it was a little too rich for me and I was far happier sipping on the devilishly tasty G. H. Mumm De Cramant NV that accompanied it.

Swaying me back in favour of the food was the sublime seabass with soft spring onions and delicate hints of ginger, followed by what Gary described as “three roast dinners on one plate” – confit of pork belly, lamb cutlet and beef and wild mushroom Wellington.

Delicately presented but without being too pompous, the Wellington and pork belly were a sensation and the G.H. Mumm Vintage 1999 wasn’t half-bad either, warranting a brazen request for a top-up.

Leaving us with a sweet taste in our mouths was rhubarb, rhubarb and more rhubarb, which arrived in a chiboust, a coulis sauce and poached. Happily, this fabulously fruity number was lighter than a spring breeze and ended the evening’s five-hour, culinary journey with unanimous approval. All evening the service had been polished, but almost too polished. It was like the waiters were putting so much effort into doing everything right that they forgot to smile or interact with the diners. I’d put this down to the presence of Mr Rhodes, but I noticed this the last time I ate there.

Nit picking this maybe but there was little else to criticise, even for me.