The not-so-cool Mynt

It's 8.50pm on a Thursday at Mynt, a new bar which has been open for a month. It's a prime location for the city's post-work drinks market, yet there are barely ten people in the huge space (Mynt has at least 20 tables for four or more spread around the square bar) and we can't eat as the chef's been sent home.

Liquid dinner, then. Except a number of cocktails (Bellini, Mynt's special) aren't available as Mynt doesn't have a full range of drinks yet. Caipirihnas (£6) and Mojitos (£6) are OK, the Mai Tai (£6) is dentalwash blue. It tastes fine but looks wrong.

Mynt's interior is an odd hotchpotch. Pool tables pastiche a traditional boozer; cubed dark brown leather sofas and funky, cool lighting implies style-bar decorating by numbers; there's geometric print, 1970s wallpaper... on the ceiling.

It gets worse. The fire alarm sounds. Is it an emergency? The staff's lack of urgency suggests not, but it would be nice to be told either way. It continues to go on and off.

The gents has an apology for the state of the toilets. Too right, they're scuzzy - taps don't work and a bucket sits under a urinal. We get the bill and a 12.5 per cent service charge has been added. Hunger's robbed us of our will to point out service has, at best, been frustratingly slow and, at worst, non-existent.

On Friday morning, there's an e-mail from last night's company: 'Thanks for taking us to the worst bar in London...'

Mynt Rooms
25-67 Farringdon Road, EC1