Barbecoa goers may eat in the shadow of St Paul’s, but they worship a different God.

Parked up outside One New Change shopping centre, my taxi driver shakes his head: “It’s not on the map.” Clearly, Barbecoa doesn’t exist. In fact, Adam Perry Lang’s new restaurant is on the first floor, out of the reach of street maps and sat navs. In a sci-fi style search, I head up the escalator and down echoing corridors. Eating in malls might be the norm throughout the Americanized world, but I still largely dine out in discrete ground-floor rooms — so this is weird.

My friends are in the bar, sipping prosecco. A newly bought pair of Superdry jogging bottoms and a dress from Mango sit naughtily in nearby shopping bags. Behind us, St Paul’s Cathedral looms solemn and grey, as if scowling with disapproval at our squeals of material pleasure.

In every direction sit table of sexy city peeps, supping red wine and hacking into crispy hunks of barbecued meet. The aroma of sweet, sticky sauces drifts from the open kitchen, where open flames glow menacingly. This is hot cuisine, not haute cuisine. And in this carnivorous temple, the meat and the clientele are as tasty and fresh as the clothes sold next door.

Opposite Barbecoa’s front door, a sign proclaims that a Gordon Ramsay restaurant will open soon.

Or did it say a Zara? The shoppers will consume it either way.