Any aesthete worth their salt is well versed in the work of Barcelona-born painter, sculptor and ceramicist Joan Miró. A leading figure of the Surrealist movement, Miró’s diverse, vibrant work hit back at the bourgeois constrictions of traditional painting, and defied classification, pioneering new styles and influencing a generation of Abstract Expressionists. Mayfair’s newest opening, named for the Catalonian artist, makes for a late-night dining experience that is fittingly colourful and eclectic.

Taking over the space that was once Street XO, Miro is the newest addition to the Cream Group’s portfolio (it’s also behind the recently relaunched The Windmill Soho, Restaurant Ours and nightclub Cirque Le Soir), and the latest in a string of late-night party restaurants taking over Mayfair – joining the likes of Berkeley Square’s Asian outfit Sexy Fish, Dover Street Latin American eatery MNKY HSE and Asian-Italian fusion restaurant Novikov.

Helmed by Executive Chef Toby Burrowes, who, after cutting his teeth at Zuma London and Michelin-starred Elystan Street, looked to his travels to inspire his far-ranging menu; which predictably made headlines before Miro even opened, thanks to an eye-watering £3,000 signature dish featuring 1kg of caviar, and a menu of rare and vintage cocktails and bottles that will set you back anywhere from £500 to £50,000. Even if you choose not to partake of those particular delicacies, Miro promises an opulent take on global favourites, comprising pan-Asian, European and South American flavours, set apart by theatrical, creative presentation and uncompromising quality. Which sounds great on paper but, as anyone who’s found themselves in Sumosan Twiga after 9pm will know, can be a recipe for chaotic service and food that feels like an afterthought.

Met upon arrival by sharply outfitted staff, we were led to a low-lit basement illuminated by Tokyo-style neon signs, and seated at a red marble bar to kick things off with a well-balanced espresso martini and refreshing Floradora, all soundtracked by soft tech-house music spun by one of Miro’s resident DJs. Sufficiently lubricated, we headed to a comfortable corner booth, set beneath large-scale murals hung from exposed-brick walls. Here, our waiter Seb, well-versed in the restaurant’s extensive menu, recommended a bottle of Gavi di Gavi ad Lunam as he doled out soy sauce and we watched a legion of chefs at work in the restaurant’s open kitchen.

Surrounded by snap-happy influencers and off-duty City boys taking bumps of Oscietra caviar from the backs of their hands (an actual menu suggestion), our culinary journey of globally-inspired small plates began. To start, steamed young edamame with Maldon salt and pan-fried Padron peppers, seasoned with a fragrant Mexican tajin spice – the best my fairly discerning companion has had, I’m told – and two neat parcels filled with a light mixture of pickled daikon radish, cucumber and a sesame and tofu cream.

This was quickly followed by a platter of sliced hamachi dressed in spicy ponzu, jalapeño, avocado, coriander and garlic. Fatty and indulgent, it proved to be a preview of what was to come: delectable crunchy truffled Yellowtail and avocado maki rolls and succulent watermelon sashimi, both of which had us swatting the other’s chopsticks away in pursuit of the last bite.

Starters devoured, we moved on to an inventive ‘Fish & Chips’ amuse bouche: potato galette topped with Chutoro, pickled wasabi and Oscietra caviar. An allergy prevented us from trying the much-lauded king crab and prawn croquettes, which the table next door proclaimed ‘utterly to die for’. The same can be said for Miro’s crispy, chewy cauliflower karaage, deep fried and tossed in a sweet, spicy sauce, and the indulgent fried goat’s cheese, which came smothered in rich Australian black winter truffle honey – always a win in my book. Further highlights included a fragrant Josper-grilled harissa chicken with spiced yoghurt and pomegranate accompanied by aromatic miso-glazed Japanese aubergine, and a crunchy Caesar salad with soft-yolked quail eggs and aged parmesan.

Harnessing the power of our second stomachs (those reserved just for sweets), we opted to share a salted popcorn soufflé for dessert. Airy and light, but full of flavour, this final dish was served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream at its centre and drenched in sticky salted caramel sauce that I would have taken in a shot glass had the restaurant offered the choice.

As Miro’s bar and dining room filled and the tech-house soundtrack bled into a playlist of booming Samba house and Reggaeton, I began to see the unique appeal of this ‘clubstaurant’ where dancing is fervently encouraged. Who wouldn’t fancy taking a break mid-night out for a serving of caviar pasta with a side of roast bone marrow brûlée?

Make no mistake, this is not the place to bring your parents for a nice, quiet meal. But, if you’re looking for somewhere to gather your friends on a Friday night after a long week at work, to unwind, let loose and enjoy a kilo of caviar to a soundtrack of pumping electronic music, then Miro might just be the place for you.

15 Old Burlington Street, W1S 2JR, miromayfair.com

Read more: London’s best oyster bars