Stodgy at Shanghai

There are just two things you'll need to glance at in order to qualify for this season's guide to cultural bluffing. The first is the Man Booker Prize-winning novel, The Gathering (not a feel-good book). And the second is the Terracotta Army on show at the British Museum, a dazzling display of political ego and arrogance that dwarfs anything seen today; yes, even by 'How clever I am to deliver a speech without an Autocue!' Dave himself.

Of course, feeling the need to become instantly knowledgeable about all cultural matters is one of the more curious ways in which we create stress for ourselves. I got over it after my one appearance on Newsnight Review, when I finally learned simply to enjoy these experiences and not worry if your own critique wasn't the best in the room. Just make it original.

It's the same with food: the rules are very simple. Eat what you enjoy; cook what you like to eat; but always be brave enough to explore new terrain. Chinese cuisine is one of my favourites, but finding superb examples of it in London isn't easy. By and large, the slightly anaemic version found in the capital is not my preference: it's not spicy enough for a palate trained on the Chinese cuisine of North America. And so I rarely venture to new Chinese restaurants in London and stick rigidly to those I know and like in New York and Los Angeles. Or even cook my own on occasion.

Perhaps it was feeding my cultural face with Terracotta figures that made me hanker after some Chinese food as I walked away from the British Museum to meet a political friend for lunch.

Chinatown was a little too far for me, and Hakkasan - the undisputed king of the smarter Chinese restaurants beyond the Soho core - too hard to get into at the last minute.

Shanghai Blues is the new(ish) kid on the block, which is unexpectedly to be found in the less-than-trendy Holborn in a lavish £2.5 million transformation of a Grade II-listed former library. The restaurant is huge and should be impressive. The owners have splashed out on deeply dark furniture, silk awnings and fancy lamps, but instead of being splendid, the whole effect was rather gloomy and hopeless, like an antiques shop in a dying seaside town that has sold off most of its stock.

Expensive restaurant makeovers always make me concerned that the work will be done at the expense of the kitchen. In this case, sadly, my fears were realised. I'd taken one of the most genial politicians I know and one with rare integrity (a Tory who opposed the war in Iraq long before it was fashionable) to gossip about Westminster. We'd planned to have a sumptuous yet seamless lunch. Some hope.

The service was static because the staff didn't communicate with each another (unusual in a Chinese restaurant, where speed and service are normally first rate). This only added to the sense of low expectation. It seemed to embrace our fellow diners who were sitting with glum faces that reminded me of Steve McClaren.

And the meal was disappointing. If food is spicy, I can be quite happy even if I'm not sure exactly what it is. But here, the peppery components of our meal were so peppery that we might have been chewing an old jockstrap. And the dim sum was as stodgy as an Ed Balls speech (does this man really hope to be Prime Minister one day?).

The wine list is trumpeted as being extensive, but who really wants to drink serious wine with this kind of food? We had ordered the set menu, but 90 minutes later we had to call for the bill, minus pudding, as the whole performance was so slow.