Food Miles

I once had dealings with an estate agent who would agree with everything I said. 'It's a terrific flat, this.' 'Yes, Miles. It is.' 'Although it is very noisy outside, isn't it?' 'Yes, you're right about that. It is very noisy.' 'And the kitchen has damp.' 'Yes, it does have a damp smell, doesn't it?'

Something similar was going on with our waiter at The Riding House Café, although this time it was me doing all the agreeing. 'Would you like to start with a beer?' (I wouldn't normally.) 'Yes, please.' 'Becks?' (Not really my thing.) 'Yes, that would be lovely.' I found myself acquiescing to everything he suggested. If he'd asked me to gut mackerel in the kitchen, no doubt I would have.

It was 7.15pm when we arrived, but the place was already packed. A refectory-style table in the main room was full, and there was a healthy throng of suited types in a post-work haze at the bar. Another dining area, where we sat on vast, ketchup-red banquettes, was populated with family groups: a mother and son eating in stony silence after one of them had dropped a bombshell; a man nervously introducing a new girlfriend to his parents.

The menu is New York diner-style and comforting in the extreme. My agent Molly and I had bread and olives (at the waiter's suggestion, of course) and then shared four small plates (likewise) as our starters - a rather fiery baby squid with chorizo, veal and pork sausage, sea bass ceviche and steak tartare that was served with beautifully thin toast.

Molly then had spiced whiting with a side order of broccoli and I chose a rack of pork with butternut squash. At some point a bottle of Chilean Cabernet arrived and as I refilled our glasses, Molly pointed out the light fittings: they were made from stuffed squirrels.

I was extremely full by the time I was shown the dessert menu but opted for hot fudge sundae anyway, and I was glad of it. It was so rich and massive that it made me feel like I was 11 again and I rolled out of the place feeling deeply contented.

The place is brand spanking new, and looks it, too; almost no predistressed materials (unless you count the squirrels) have been used. The waiting staff are also pristine and almost giddily attentive. We'd had a great time. But then, I think the waiter might have told me to say that.