Necking it down at Giraffe

Somewhere that couldn't be more different is Giraffe in Islington, part of the the world-music-themed family chain that screams hello in bright orange paint and what seems like 100 different sounds.

Arriving for children's tea just after Final Score on a Saturday was like walking into an old acid house party for toddlers. One kid was raving on a chair, while another was marching up and down the coffee table which was now little more than a mound of that morning's weekend colour supplements and jobs sections.

I always feel for the waiting staff in Giraffe, because there are usually only two of them doing their job right. There'll be a good looking Eastern European girl with a ceremonial tattoo above her backside who'll get your order wrong, disappear for hours on end and never ask you if you want any more drinks.

I don't enjoy going to Giraffe, at least not when it's full, but I like some of the food and it's probably one of the best places to take young children if their idea of lunch is fish fingers first, ice cream second and a wrestling match in the aisles in-between.

I won't even examine too closely the list of things that went wrong. The notes look like a shopping list for a family of eight. "Stan's beans late, M's order wrong" set the tone.

Suffice to say, despite arriving 50 minutes late myself, my crispy haddock burger was sitting in front of me within three minutes and the other three adults had to wait a further half an hour for theirs because the waitress forgot to put the order through.

Like the kids, I think the starters and desserts are probably the best they have on offer. The mezze plate with warm nan gives you falafel, eggplant salad, hummus and a minty tabouleh and can double as lunch or merely a filler. Stanley's dad had a turkey enchilada which stopped him going on about Hull City for 10 minutes until he bemoaned the presence of sweetcorn.

As I was emptying the kids' bowls of melted chocolate ice cream, four grown-ups came in and sat down, and then stood up again and walked out with hands over their ears. But some child-free adults decided to stay.

It may be the closest thing to a scene from Bugsy Malone, and frankly the whole experience can be a pain in the backside, but somehow it works. Maybe the owners should just give their managers a few more staff and turn the bloody music down.

Giraffe
29-31 Essex Road, N1 3PS