Good food, awful uniforms

Rarely have I had such an, erm, interactive dinner as my Raclette at the newly opened Brasserie Les Sans Culottes. A traditional dish from French-speaking Switzerland, it involves a wheel of Raclette cheese, grappled by a scary looking metal contraption complete with open brazier.

The cheese is pushed towards burning coals and then, as it melts, is scraped ('racler' means to scrape) on to a whole range of goodies: small boiled new potatoes, cornichons and charcuterie.

Not only did it taste great, but it's such a performance you end up howling with laughter as the cheese strings everywhere and the heat toasts you to a glazed ruddiness. There's loads to enjoy in this barnlike bar and restaurant: bourgeoisstyle French food, a micro-brewery for the beer fanatic, gentle prices and charming service.

Strange, then, that it was almost empty when we visited. Perhaps potential punters were frightened off by the Freaaaaanshh-ness of the staff's terrible beret-and-yellow-jersey uniforms (why not sling some onions round their necks and have done with it?).

Apart from the onslaught of cheese, we tried an over-mackerelly mackerel in creamy mushroom sauce; Saucisson Lyonnais in brioche - lovely bread but offputtingly luncheon- meatish sausage; oeufs en meurette with an insufficiently reduced red wine sauce; cruditès with fabulous a'oli; a suitably earthy, massive portion of chicken with morels and cream; and good monkfish with more cream and perfunctory pistils of saffron. And for dessert, some French cheeses? Actually, I'd rather not.

Brasserie Les Sans Culottes
27 Endell Street, Covent Garden, WC2