Excluding the Angus Steakhouse chain, I generally thought that most restaurants in London had shaken off their 80s image as the worst in the world…. How wrong I could be. Saturday evenings trip to an unsuspecting Italian on Edgware Road has re-ignited my suspicions about tourist London hell. The restaurant in question (I forget the name) looked pleasant enough (apart from the 60s american motorbike in the window). We entered, took our seat and only then did the full horror of the place begin to set in.

Firstly our ears were struck by the late 70s/early 80s musak. Then the non-Italian waitress arrived with the menus, some olives and some warm bread (infact the bread was the tastiest thing I ate) complete with small packs of non-spreadable anchor butter. ‘It can’t be that bad’ I thought, until I examined the drinks menu to discover the vast range of beers available to us : Lager. ‘Lager heh, I wonder what type’ Then I noticed the family enduring the same misery as us had some ‘Lager’ – half a pint – bargain at only 2.75. I enquired what types of beer, they served. Did they do bottles? She unfortunately had no idea what i was saying and just repeated the word lager and tapped on my menu…. Oh well, 3 tap waters all round then. We hedged our bets with a pizza and 2 calzones. At 8 quid a shot they should have been ok, unfortunately they only put the microwave on 650w instead of 900w for 5 minutes so the cheese hadn’t quite melted in the calzones. Jhob complained and got a slightly hotter one (although there was more staff saliva in his I imagine), I put up and consumed mine… Typical English thing to do I suppose in this sort of situation – couldn’t let the stereotypical side down.

So, the moral of this tale, never go in a restaurant with an american motorbike in the window, dark red interior and pictures of pouting dogs on the walls. Also, don’t feel bad about not leaving a tip in situations like this – in fact feel good about it.