Eating out these days can seem all about relentless innovation and for-the-sake-of-it faddishness. Whilst this might thrill the cutting-edge crews of Shoreditch or Brixton, the middle-class, middle-aged burghers of Barnes and Mortlake much prefer generous platefuls of tried-and-tested combinations, competently executed and served in a serene setting. The Depot pushes all their gastronomic buttons which is why it continues to pack ‘em in since 1986.

The Venue
Set back from the moneyed, village-y high street in a renovated, cobbled, Victorian yard, The Depot boasts two connecting dining rooms plus a bar area where food is also served. The best seats in the house, however, are in the conservatory which runs the length of the dining rooms and offers unrestricted views of The Thames, idyllic in daylight and deeply romantic in darkness. On a warm evening, your second-best option would be to sit out front in the quaint courtyard. Inside, the decor is olde worlde in that familiar, unthreatening, modernised way: think herringbone woodblock flooring; artfully scuffed, clothless, sturdy, wooden tables; bentwood chairs; exposed brickwork and a beige and brown paint job.

The Atmosphere
Busy and buzzy, even on a weeknight, as the good folk of SW14 come out to play (but not too raucously, of course, which is just as well, as the carpet-less floor means sound bounces around). The waiters, in black shirts and trousers, are generally attentive, their demeanour astutely pitched between boho disdain and Grand Hotel obsequiousness.

The Food
The Depot's menu changes daily and, on the night of inspection, includes 11 starters, 10 mains and seven puds. None pushes the culinary boundaries but (perhaps because of that) all get the gastric juices flowing. How sensible, for example, if you are offering two soups, to pair chilled, light gazpacho with hot, filling cream of cauliflower with croutons and chives (both £5).

The salad of aged feta, warm roasted beetroot, rocket and toasted walnuts (£6.50) is a generous and attractively arranged starter. Both the cubes of cheese and beetroot chunks are surprisingly large, and the latter could be roasted longer to render their outside crunchier and inside squidgier. The toasted nuts are spot-on, but it is the leaves, usually only supporting artistes in this kind of show, that take centre stage: a fresher, more varied selection would be hard to envisage. Crispy duck and watercress salad (£6.95) is another hit. The duck is exceedingly crunchy but with sufficient shreds of soft meat within. A generous handful of coriander added to the watercress makes perfect sense, as does the sweet soy dressing.

From the mains, roast cod with mash, buttered spinach and parsley sauce (£13) is, like the restaurant’s decor, simultaneously old-fashioned and modish. The fish fillet is nicely cooked, though the skin could be crisper. The mash is professionally smooth, the spinach full of flavour. Creamy parsley sauce is dragged into the 21st-century with big flecks of flat-leaf parsley and a hefty whack of nutmeg. Meanwhile, roast chump of new season lamb with summer vegetables and hollandaise (£15) manages to be both summery and hearty. The lamb arrives cooked as ordered and is deliciously tender. The vegetables comprise large, old-fashioned peas, broad beans, artichokes, carrots and new potatoes. The thin gravy is deeply meaty. This is food Granny might have made (always assuming your grandma was a gifted and painstaking cook who could afford top-quality meat!).

Onto the desserts, all £5 (and called puddings, no doubt to the nostalgic delight of the conservative clientele). A blueberry and almond tart with mascarpone and maple syrup features crisp pastry and a moist, moreish filling. From the ice cream and sorbet selection (five of the former, four or the latter), chocolate ice cream is blandly pedestrian but honeycomb toffee has great flavour and gorgeous crunchy bits. A no-choice set menu (on the night visited, ham hock, leek and lambs’ tongue terrine; mackerel with fennel and samphire; Eton mess) is an impressive bargain at £15.

The Drink
A globetrotting, three-page wine list features whites from £14.50 to £47.50 and reds from £14.50 to £70. There are four dessert (sorry – pudding) wines, nine sparklers, and three roses. Commendably, four sparklers, seven whites, seven reds and a rose are offered by the 175 or 250ml glass. A large glass of Sauvignon Blanc ’07 Alameda, Central Valley from Chile (£5.50) has the classic grapefruit zing in abundance. A Cabernet Sauvignon from Argentina (£5.15 for 250ml) is rich, rounded and warming with a hint of toffee. Both taste classy and represent value for money.

The Last Word
Let the reed-thin fashionistas and loads-a-money footballers pay a fortune to eat (or, more likely, push to the side of their plates) the culinary Next Big Thing in some windowless basement got up like Austin Powers’ boudoir. Wouldn’t you rather be tucking into generous portions of sensible, satisfying, well executed food in a room where all eyes are on the majestic River Thames?