A V good meal with Norton

I love working on television - obviously, I'm never off it - but it does make pursuing certain other careers a bit difficult. It is unlikely that my ambition to be a town planner will ever be fulfilled. Equally, people may never experience the delights of my bereavement counselling. And now I find that the job of restaurant reviewer may also be beyond my grasp.

I headed off to MINT LEAF, a posh new Indian at the dull end of Haymarket, full of good intentions. If you have been to Hakkasan on Hanway Place you will recognise the influences on the design of this place - opulent style, low lighting, subtle music, long bar, squashy furnishings, and screens surrounding the formal dining areas.

I took two companions - one business, one pleasure - and resolved to order adventurously. I would make no mention of my new role as reviewer.

Sadly, all I'm able to tell anyone is that if you are "off the telly" you'll have a fantastic time. You'll be treated like a lord, everyone who works there will give you their business card, the owner's mother will come by to chat, Lulu will blow kisses from across the room and, at the end of the night, they will insist on you not paying because you missed the free preview night. Bliss.

Perhaps now would be a good time also to mention that this review is hampered not just by my being off the telly, but also by a profound lack of knowledge about Indian food. Of course, this ignorance leads to a lack of experience - why pay good money to be intimidated and possibly make fatal errors when ordering?

Happily, the menu at Mint Leaf is very accessible. The layout is all about starters and main courses and, although everything is given its traditional name, the descriptions in English render it both readable and edible. Sorry if this makes me sound very lazy, but I want my dinner, not a degree.

My pleasure companion was first to arrive and, knowing that I was going to review the place, he ordered a bellini, believing, for no obvious reason, that this would be the true test of a smart Indian restaurant. For what it's worth, the cocktail passed the test.

When my business companion and I arrived, a small platoon from the vast army of staff showed us to our table through a cavernous basement space, beautifully transformed into a series of chic, dark-wooden dining areas. My business companion, a West Coast American visiting London, immediately declared that he felt very comfortable in his club chair in the rich gloom.

The table next door was smoking - I worried about how long it would take him to feel very uncomfortable.

Because I was eating after the recording of the show, I wasn't really boozing. Water was ordered and when our lovely waiter (strange moustache ... hopefully grown for a role in some fringe production) delivered it he proudly showed us the smart bottle and told us where it was from. I have to admit I wasn't really listening, so I can only hope he didn't say "tap".