Away from the schmaltz

I never eat out on Valentine's Day. Watching loveless marriages attempting to look good for the god of Hallmark makes me bilious. The maitre d' of a smart Kensington dining room admits to me that Valentine's Day has the most tiresome atmosphere of any day, and that it is not unknown for certain gents to come in twice: mistress gets lunch (the sexiest meal), the wife, dinner and indigestion.

One friend rang me in a panic six weeks ago, begging me to help him secure a decent booking. Cynicism is no help to those of you who (aren't bitter, single and) have neglected to secure a table for two chez somewhere Michelin. Don't fret. Go anywhere with oysters - lots of cool pubs such as the Cowand the Ebury do them now. Or go somewhere good, ethnic and downbeat, with purposeful irony, a bottle of vintage champagne and some quality flutes tucked inside your overcoat. Promise the waiter a heavy tip if he'll let you drink it, then act as if you planned this weeks ago. Friskiness is nigh on impossible after expensive, rich French food. Fresh, light, cheap Oriental food is far better.

Vietnamese is the choice for lowkey eating. Hoa Viet in Camberwell pulls a sparky crowd, too. Gay, straight, librarian, bad-ass, young, middle-aged - all sat at and on an orange pine. The furniture is garish but the lighting is gentler than the average Vietnamese. The waiter is full of life. After we had ordered, he said, 'Yeah wicked! Chopsticks or cutleries?' I loved that.

Our dishes came in a steady flow so we could share and discuss each. Banh xeo, a yellow deep-fried pancake folded over bean sprouts and prawns cooked to juicy perfection (as was all the shellfish), was a good combination but needed salt. Salted chilli crispy tofu also, weirdly, needed salt. The tofu was of the moussey type, while its coating was delicately crisp. Textures, good, flavours, low, aside from the lemon grass dip that came on the side which was strikingly good, and some overly brown pieces of garlic, always bitter and horrid (just like single ladies on Valentine's Day). Canh cai tom, a prawn soup with some greenery in it, was lush, the greens still with good bite.

The dishes deteriorated as we progressed. Shaking beef was chewy and suspiciously glossy (corn flour?), a mound of coriander on top could not disguise processed flavours. Our second tofu dish, stewed with tomato and coriander, had a totally not-nice flavour (excuse my Paris Hilton English), like, ew, sour margarine. Fried tilapia with ginger and spring onions was good but frying had overtaken its constituent parts.

Crispy noodles with honey-roasted duck was disappointingly greasy.

There is much to recommend Vietnamese food. I like its fresh ingredients and lack of oiliness. The menu here, though, included a lot of North Vietnamese dishes, which are more Chinese. Fay Maschler came here last year and liked it immensely - my guest and Iwere in two minds. Perhaps we ordered wrongly.

I wish we had ordered some pho, or noodle soup, the fast food of Saigon and Hanoi. In certain dishes you put raw beef into the scalding broth so that it is barely cooked.

Order right, and Hoa Viet could be your SE5 saving grace come Saturday, order wrong and you might end up with egg-fried rice on your face.

For me, the best Valentine dinner is eaten at home. You can't go wrong with Elizabeth David's recipe for black truffle omelette, a salad of unusual leaves and a chenin blanc from the Loire, and for pudding four carats in a velvet box. Perfect.

Hoa Viet
49 Camberwell Church Street, SE5 8TR