The queue outside Jamie’s Italian seems much shorter, and often non-existent, since the opening a couple of months ago of Fire & Stone in the former Old Orleans premises just opposite. (OK, former Co-op premises – as was Jamie’s once, too – for those with long memories).

Of course, there may be no connection between one and the other, but I rather think there is.

As a pal pointed out to me the other day, a restaurant whose menu – main courses at least – is composed almost entirely of pizzas is likely to pick up custom from an establishment where none is available. It’s odd, when you think about it, that an ‘Italian’ restaurant should ignore this iconic contribution to the national cuisine. Ditto Fire & Stone in its neglect of pasta.

The ‘pal’, I will admit, was the dapper man-about-town Maxwell Mason, proprietor of The Big Bang sausage restaurant in Walton Street. This is another one-theme place, which I was pleased to see getting a deserved plug this week in The Sunday Times. The part of town Max was about on Wednesday of last week was Fire & Stone – on the very evening that we visited.

A few days later he fessed up to the fact that he had ‘shopped’ me to the statuesque young lady working as greeter that night. It had not mattered since she had already recognised me. I had judged her to be one of the few good things to be said about Villandry, at Bicester Village, where she once worked – and then duly said it in my review.

If the likely purpose of my presence at Fire & Stone had been discerned, there was certainly no evidence of this in the way Rosemarie and I were treated. The staff were attentive, without being overly so; the duty manager seemed genuinely surprised (perhaps the greeter had kept quiet) when I introduced myself as we left and thanked her for a most enjoyable meal.

As you can see from the photographs, the place has been neatly transformed, with decor in retro sixties style, by the new owners, who already have Fire & Stone restaurants in London’s Covent Garden and Westfield shopping complex, and have plans for considerable further expansion. Customers are seated on two levels (with a third level for the long cocktail bar above), with the large wood-fired pizza and the adjoining kitchen on view at the centre.

We were seated downstairs, which was fine although rather lonely when the place suddenly emptied. (We were fairly late – post theatre.) We would also have been pleased had there not been quite so much clearing up going on around us.

The food, as I say, was most enjoyable. Appetite stirred by a tart margarita (and an hour or so of vengeful slaughter at the Playhouse’s Medea), I began, after nibbling a dish of excellent green jumbo olives, with beetroot and goat’s cheese salad (a happy taste combination) with tarragon and red wine dressing. The dish looked most appealing, and I was impressed by the freshness of the slightly al dente beetroot and the creaminess of the cheese. Rosemarie tried the restaurant’s take on the classic prawn cocktail. It came on a plate with lightly cooked peeled prawns, a baby gem lettuce and a cocktail sauce with smoked paprika. All much approved.

For main course, as mentioned, it’s pizza all the way. There are nearly 30 (besides ones you can make up yourself) assembled into groups inspired by Europe, Africa, Asia, the Americas and Australasia. The various toppings are rather as you might imagine – aromatic duck and hoi sin sauce, say, for the Asian; chilli beef and jalapenos for the Americas – but mozzarella, tomato sauce, mushrooms and onions are a pretty regular presence.

Spoilt for choice, I asked our waitress for recommendations. She offered two. I went for the Canberra (Oz, of course) which features chunks of roast chicken breast, tiny diced roast potatoes with garlic and rosemary, mozzarella, and mushrooms topped with sour cream and sweet chilli sauce. Rosemarie headed for Casablanca with infused mascarpone cheese sauce, wild mushrooms sautéed in garlic butter, roquefort blue cheese, grated mozzarella topped with toasted walnuts and parsley.

Both of us enjoyed them, though I was not entirely sure about the slightly biscuity texture of the pastry. It also tasted to me a little sweet but I was later assured by the manager that it contained no sugar.

Very sweet indeed – and deliberately so – was the dark chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream that Rosemarie chose from the short list of puddings. She loved it. Some might prefer another pizza; there’s one with poached pear and caramel.