Shame about the Kitchen

Balmy Balham is the New Notting Hill, I'm told. It's also home to my date, Dog-Walker-To-The-Stars, and several friends of Soho House owner Nick Jones.

The thoughtful chap has opened a cool bar and grill for them to hang out in.

It's smart by any standards - a fab focal zinc bar, surrounded by lots of upmarket seating and heaving with grateful local punters. In a busy rear dining area, the retro-modern decor will be familiar to those who have tried Jones's Electric Brasserie, whose modish menu is replicated here in a slightly truncated form.

The venue is at the bottom of a hill. Alas, this review is also heading downhill. Asked for an alco-free cocktail recommendation, our chirpy waiter sniffs: 'I used to work in a good cocktail bar in town, but I don't trust this lot to come up with anything interesting.' Date fancies white wine, but of the five available by the glass, four are 'off'. She agrees to the remaining white and after 20 minutes a Chilean red appears.

Well-presented snacks arrive a full half-hour later. Date's summer salad is fine, but my over-cooked, lukewarm cheeseburger is served in a bun drier than the Sahara Desert and the meat has a deeply dubious aftertaste. Management needs to address these teething problems, for on this showing, I'd say: Balham? Don't believe the hype!