The bill wasn't the only hard thing to swallow

Let's get to it: the bill was a horror. £309 for two. For a night of fried chicken and snails and no pudding. For God's sake.

- Bar Valette

Why? Is there a ransom to meet? Murderous bookies on the hunt? It's not the money per se. There are places where twice this spend might be met with a nod of fair's fair. But not at Bar Valette; not at anywhere with "bar" in the name. It is a nominative nod to the relaxed, the unfussy, the easy to be in. Valette is some of these things, but it is also a sallow room of disappointments at an unjustified price. No gags this week, just shakes of the head.

Valette describes itself meaninglessly as a "European restaurant", which here indicates a slush of Spanish influences with a little French for depth. Fans of Tomos Parry's Mountain will recognise it in its style, if not execution. Similar crowd, too: foodie, young, improbably keen on Patagonia and Carhartt. Behind it is Isaac McHale, owner of The Clove Club, where he earned a first Michelin star in 2014, and a second in 2022. I have never eaten there, but its reputation for brilliance hums like neon. I know I must go. On paper, Valette appeared to offer an introduction to his culinary chops without the usual formality and price.

But £309 for two. And the loo was already up the creek. For three tons, you expect the flush to work.

Spunked it on the booze? If only.