Why MPs are also fat cats

Sticky puddings, over-boiled carrots and a slightly radioactive-tasting Cajun chicken in rubbery pitta bread: these are typical delights choked down by MPs at the House of Commons.

But, whatever their merits, honourable members have an insatiable appetite for different places to eat at Westminster. Plans were announced yesterday to lavishly refurbish one of the 15 already serving MPs and peers. Will waistbands be able to withstand the pressure?

The Palace of Westminster boasts some of the most traditional - and trendy - eateries in London, reflecting the eclectic background of its members.

However much they may criticise the perks of City fatcats, they jealously guard the right to enjoy inexpensive food and drink in their own backyard.

Prices at Westminster's restaurants are enough to make Gordon Ramsay's eyes water. At the Adjournment Restaurant this week, for instance, there are crab cakes at £4.95 and sea bass at a decidedly unworldly £6.95.

The facilities for MPs are handsomely subsidised, with Dover Sole seldom swimming above the £12 mark, and puddings to be bagged for as little as £1.50. The restaurants, unlike their rivals outside the Palace, do not have to pay commercial rents. And, even where the subsidies do not apply - such as the Churchill Room - you can have a good blow out for less than £20 a head.

Some facilities, such as the fabled Commons Tea Room, are open only to MPs and a handful of Commons clerks. The Tea Room has plain wooden "mess" tables, piles of newspapers and an aroma of fattening toasties. Tea cakes, biscuits and all-day breakfasts complete the far-from-healthy picture.

Charles Clarke, chairman of the Labour Party and a solid trencherman, is a regular here. Other senior members of the Government tend to look in only when they are in trouble (eg Stephen Byers) or when they are trawling for support (Gordon Brown likes to press the flesh from time to time). Tony Blair hardly ever visits.

At the Strangers' and Members' dining rooms, the mood is more dignified: thick carpets, silver service and the murmur of political conspiracies.The menus mark out healthy dishes with a small heartlogo, and vegetarian options are signposted with a V.

The fare is of the three-star railway hotel variety but the service is excellent and, most importantly, discreet.