Canvas is cut from poor cloth

This review was published in August 2002

The first thing that strikes you as you enter this recently opened Portobello Road bar is just how un-new it looks. Not only in terms of design - we've seen enough impractical cream leather seating layouts to last us a lifetime - but also in state of repair.

The stairs are scuffed, the dominant light feature flickers temperamentally and the unisex toilets - well, for those keen to retain their breakfast, we'll refrain from recounting that experience.

All of this might be acceptable if Canvas pitched itself as 'shabby chic'. But the bar's comprehensive cocktail list and high prices suggest delusions of grandeur. And delusions they most certainly are. Our initial request - for a food menu - was met with a curt 'the chef is ill today, so we don't have anything'.

Strike one. My companion's simple inquiry - as to what one of the cocktail's ingredients, Calvados, was - resulted in universal puzzlement. Strike two.

We hoped the long wait for our drinks was the result of a perfectionist's meticulous attention to detail - it wasn't. Each of our cocktails was weak and badly made, with the Jayne Mansfield - vodka, cream and fresh strawberries topped with Champagne, £7 - one of the most retch-inducing confections ever quaffed.

Our displeasure was exacerbated by the high-decibel melange of 1980s tracks emanating from the DJ booth. For perhaps the first time since my pre-teen years, I found myself hailing a homeward-bound cab before 9pm on a Friday night. And what a relief it was.

Canvas
177 Portobello Road, W11