Lovably uncool

This gallant attempt at a 1930s jazz dive has bounce, brio and bags of enthusiasm - in fact it may be the most uncool jazz joint I've ever visited.

It is, however, very lovable: our trilby-decked waiter was so friendly and eager it was impossible to resent his lack of training, although our wine arrived open and wasn't presented for viewing much less tasting.

The barmaid, too, smiled so sweetly that it seemed churlish to notice her failure to come and take our order. When they eventually arrived, our cocktails were generous in size and reasonably priced (£5.50) - but they wouldn't make me a Cosmopolitan because it wasn't on the menu.

Tuna sashimi was gorgeous but came with sweet chilli sauce (homemade, but rather inappropriate), and neither it or my equally lovely monkfish wrapped in venison featured anything resembling an accompaniment.

The zany menu - grilled zebra, alligator tortellini and Tibetan lamb all feature - is certainly an improvement on the dried-out sarnies traditional to jazz clubs, but hearty portions might be more useful to late-night revellers than haute cuisine.

The jazz selection is rather good; we went on cabaret night and the music was fun, popular and incredibly loud - we sat upstairs, they played downstairs, and that suited us fine.

Our meal with a cocktail each, a bottle of very average wine and a shared dessert (chocolate cake, dry and disappointing) came to £85 with service, which isn't bad; now if they can just straighten out the kinks, this could be a dive worth lurking in.