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WHEN the editor suggested that I wrote about overrated restaurants I took him to mean those subject to media 'hype', socially 'in', hard to get into and overpriced. Taking a straw poll, four of the front-runners seemed to be Quaglino's, Daphne's, Langan's Brasserie and San Lorenzo. So, fighting back my prejudices or preconceptions and adopting my most tolerant posture, I set out to investigate. My attempt to book an eight o'clock table at Quaglino's got things off to a bad start. A young female with a blunt Australian accent charmlessly informed me on the phone that I could have a table at 7.30 or nine, but her computer told her I could not come at eight. It took referral to her manager, Mr Pol, and the revelation that I wished to write about the place, before an eight o'clock table was forthcoming.
On arrival with the Oxford squash blue Miranda Bevan at the appointed hour, we were ordered to queue to check in. Then we were ordered to queue again to hand in our coats. I demurred, suggesting that one of the pert young women at the door do this for us, and generally exhibit a little more desire to look after the customers. We were led unsmilingly to a table at the side of the huge, cacophonous room, where tables for two are unadorned by linen, while those for four or more down the centre have crisp, white cloths. From the long, brasserie-style menu (the prix fixe expires at 6.30) Miranda chose (printed in red capitals as a...