A gastronomical comatose

By the time you read this I will have completed the London Triathlon in record time - for a lazyass drunk with an appetite for sweeties and cigarettes, that is. I went to The Waterfront in my last training week, going straight to Streatham after a swim in the goosepoo and pondweed consommé of The Serpentine.

Swimming gives you a very special type of hunger: angry, agitated, ravenous. The fact that the place is called The Waterfront irked me because it looks over not water but Streatham High Road and the Common. As I acted angry, agitated, ravenous, the voice of reason - my friend the maths genius, Big Shoe - provided tandem rational commentary.

'I expect it dates back to the times of coaching inns,' he said. Which it did. ('And that your blood sugar levels are low.' Which they were.) But don't expect ye olde horsee brasse worlde.

The Waterfront is more primary-hued bar than pub, with cocktails, homemade art, racks of glossy magazines and young Streatham mobilising upwards. It's dark and mildly atmospheric. They have DJs at the weekend. The tables and menus, however, were a bit tacky - as in sticky.

I came to review this place after putting out a call for more far-flung pubs outside the gastro triangle of Islington, Shepherd's Bush and Shoreditch. The
Waterfront's champion said it had, 'top-notch food, sumptuous cocktails and great atmosphere'. It was a bit late for cocktails. The wine list was short and almost entirely New World, on tap Hoegaarden, San Miguel and Courage Best, as well as the usual stout and fizzies.

The pizzas were fundamentally flawed, not terrible, but lacking in essential pizza characteristics. The dough was doughy, chewy and not thin enough. Where was the crisp, dusty brown bottom? In its place, something like baked bagel. The tomato sauce was thick, rich and slightly tart, it tasted of chutney, passata, jam - not pizza sauce.

The overall effect, added to the briny anchovies and the capers, was a little vinegary. Big Shoe's Firenze felt hip enough, dressed liberally with Parma ham and a mound of rocket, but the mushrooms were dry and shrivelled.

My nose wrinkled. 'No,' said Big Shoe, 'the ingredients are fine, the pizzas just have a certain "out of town" feel.' They use buffalo mozzarella on three of the pizzas, including the Peking - with duck and hoi sin sauce, spring onion and cucumber.

Out of town indeed. This place is OK, but truth be told, I was gastronomically comatose.

The Waterfront Bar
426 Streatham High Road, SW16 3PX