Falafel with aubergine and pepper Harissa casserole to follow could perhaps have been spicier but was tasty and huge and rounded off with the addition of a lemon-tahini sauce. The two home-made sausages sat atop their heap of Colcannon mash with cabbage raised a few smiles among the more puerile among us however despite looking as though conceived for a Dennis Potter school- flashback were inoffensive if not striking. Certainly they could have done with a little more of the redwine gravy with which they came.

I do miss seeing Mel Smith smoking cigars in the Champagne Bar, maybe they should have him stuffed and brought back? Maybe they should have us all stuffed and brought back? No, you can’t preserve the past you have to move on.

Approach The Victoria from one direction and you wonder what a nice little pub like this is doing it what appears to be a residential area, albeit one that is rather pricey. Approach from the other direction though and you realise that it’s actually just a stone’s throw from Richmond Park and ideal for walkers, cyclists and anyone to aim for.

It’s located on the first floor! I tell you this because otherwise, like me, you’ll probably walk around in ever more frustrated circles trying to find the bloody place. For some reason the revamped Spitalfields market sees no reason to include Le Bouchon Breton on any of their signage, at least not as far as I could see through a thickening red mist.

They’re going to rename my home town of South Croydon to ‘Malcolm John’s South Croydon ‘I reckon, his empire is spreading so fast. His French restaurant ‘Malcolm John’s Cassoulet’ has already won hearts and stomachs in the area and now he’s opened another place, ‘Malcolm John’s Fish and Grill” about 400 yards away. Quite possibly he has a secret tunnel linking the two so that he can get back and forth, plus a helicopter to travel to his Vacherin in Chiswick..

The Bombay Brasserie has only been open a few days following a large and no doubt expensive, refurbishment. The chairs look so spanking new that you (or at least I) rather regret wearing jeans and I discreetly check my rear for any protruding felt tip pens, chewing gum, cat hairs etc before sitting down. All around the walls memories of the previous interior line up – ancient black and white photos of Bombay life, mostly featuring well-fed Princes in their Raj heyday.

Down at the far Western end of Portobello Road things haven’t changed much since I used to do my shopping in the All Saints Road in the late 1970’s. The shopping was a bit furtive and didn’t actually involve any shops though, if you catch my drift maaan. Here is a nice neighbourhood restuarant, The Drawing Room.

We sample a Toby Carvery and report back that surprise surprise it’s really not bad at all, especially when you have a hungry family to feed

Some things purr on, doing their business, no X-factor genes pumping their spoilt podgy dancing legs. One of these is the modest but wonderful Footstool Restaurant in the brick-vaulted crypt of St Johns church in Smith Square, Westminster.

Even before the credit crunch (or ‘recession’ as we old financial experts still refer to a lack of employment, rising prices and general despair) there was a need for restaurants that delivered well-priced food served without fuss and at some speed. For many people, and I suppose that means young people, food is only a part of the evening, the start and not the main attraction. For them Inn Noodle is just the way to go.