As a Bistrotheque devotee – I’ve eaten their menu backwards and forwards and even on Christmas Day – the owners were going to have do something fairly heinous to stop me loving their new diner Shrimpy’s. Putting it in King’s Cross might be the first sticking point, for Shrimpy’s isn’t pretty, fur coat and lace knickers King’s Cross down by the station. No, this is York Way, a place best visited at 9am on Sundays, to observe through gleeful sober eyes London’s youth staggering back from raves like Shaun of The Dead extras. Thankfully, its newest, best tourist attraction is Shrimpy’s, which has made its home in a former petrol station, staying true to its former shape, but now white, clean and elegant with a nod to silliness in the form of pineapple lamp bases, vivid wall etchings and a beautiful crisp, cold rosé delivered to me in a white rabbit jug, pouring plonk from its bunny gob.