We were on our way to the Robin Hood pub today, one of our favourite places, where they serve huge portions of wonderful fish and chips, when we saw this place. Wow - it looked like our kind of restaurant, big windows, light and modern decor - and they had a special lunch menu - two courses for £9.95. We didn't loiter outside to look at the menu, as we were with Auntie Betty, who at nearly 91 is still wearing high heels, so can't walk very far.

We expected lots of fishy choices. It wasn't just the name of the restaurant, it was the blue and white theme and the pictures of jolly trawlermen on the walls. The choice was Crab Cake, Vegetarian Soup (made with fresh vegetarians no doubt) Deep-fry (sic) Brie and Sweet Thai Chilli Calamari. The Mains were Boerwors (sausages) and mash, Moules Frites, Salmon Pasta and Chicken Caesar Salad. Doesn't exactly reek of the briney, does it ? Each dish had two or three lines of descriptive menuspeak, which always grips me with despair. But Aunty Betty was reminding us every five minutes that she was very hungry, so we decided to give it a go. They don't let you order food till you've ordered your drinks, which doesn't work well for wine choosing, so we had coke and mineral water. Cape Fish is a South African restaurant, and perhaps this works better in a hot country. Personally I like to order what I want when I damn well want, because I'm the customer and I'm paying, but we let it go. The poor waitress was so nervous she spilled not one, but two bottles of diet coke all over the table, drenching everything including S's mobile phone. I think we were really nice about it, we tried to reassure the poor girl that really it didn't matter, but she remained miserable and silent as she changed the tablecloth.

I wish I'd read the menuspeak more carefully. It's all there if you pay attention. "Crab Cake" (note the singular) "Premier white crab meat, seasonal white fish and potatoes dusted in parmesan cheese, grilled and served with a plum and lemongrass sauce" Just the one crab cake then, on a bit of lollo rosso, with two crossed chives for that modern look. These two crossed chives appeared on every single dish, by the way. There was a lot of potato, a fair bit of white fish and very little crab in that cake. In fact, there was very little food on the entire plate. We asked for bread to eke it out. Aunty Betty had gone for the Deep-fry Brie, which was obviously from a catering pack, but she was ravenous by now and wolfed it down. For Mains, three of us went for the Salmon Pasta, while L went for the Moules Frites. Now we are used to having oysters by the dozen - well, some of us are - but mussels are cheap enough, and L expected a fair old mound of 'em, like you get in Belgo. He actually got about 12, with a bowl of chips. But the Salmon Pasta was a really nasty shock. The menuspeak said "Fresh Salmon, grilled and tossed in a basil pesto, with tagliatelle topped with parmesan shavings" The salmon was OK, but the tagliatelle sauce was not pesto and had no basil in it. It was made with great spikes of rosemary, which hadn't been cooked properly and crudely overpowered the whole dish. Rosemary is what they put in shampoo - gives a lovely shine to the hair - but it's powerful stuff, and even lamb only needs a little. Mercifully, the portions were very small.

We decided to leg it, and asked for the bill. With cokes at £1.60 each and a bottle of mineral water at £2.25 the bill came to £46.85 without service. We left a tip for the terrified girl and fled. I can still taste that rosemary, the whole experience has left me feeling hungry, yet taken away my appetite. Never Again. Rejected. DM 2005