Don't let yourself to be Sway-ed

This review was first published in September 2001.

There are times when you need a Swiss Army knife and times when it seems rather useless; if you regularly need to extract stones from horses' hooves, buy a hoof picker. And Sway is a Swiss Army knife of nights out in the West End: bar, dance floor, cocktail bar and, er, restaurant. For a hen/stag/office party, I could see it provides all the requirements for a good night out; those in search of a dining experience will be better off elsewhere.

The first problem was the loud hard-house music which ruled out any conversation with my companion. The menu doesn't feature starters but tapas fill the void. Chicken fillets were suspiciously pure white, wet and tasteless, while falafel were cold and bland. 'Smashed' avocado was the only starter we finished; a bit worrying for the chef that the best dish was one that didn't need cooking.

Mains were a slight improvement - but that's not to say they were good. Arotisserie behind the chef's station furnished a chicken; a hot Portuguese sauce had failed to permeate the dry flesh. My sea bass should have been thrown back for being too small and its short life deserved a finer end than a bland grilling. Sides of garlic mash and green beans were actually rather good but 'rustic chips' had been made from the same floury spuds as the mash, resulting in deep-fried mush.

Desserts were a complete disaster area. A summer pudding was over-chilled (even the plate was frigid) and the pastry - pastry? - was heavy enough to have broken a window had I given way to my temper pique. We shared it and had one spoonful each; enough said. With wine and service, a steep £64.

Sway
Great Queen Street, London, WC2B 5BZ