There are very few things that put me off my stride in this crazy world of dining, but one of them is silence. No one likes to eat in a library, and having a combined silent stuffery by diners and waiters alike makes for an unsettling experience.

The Rowhill Grange Hotel is rightly and justifiably renowned for its sumptuous Spa - a cluster of therapy pools and steam rooms which are worth the price of a visit there alone. The Truffles restaurant has won a number of awards - from the AA notably - but, as I’ve found over the years, an AA rosette or two signifies little other than the fact that the restaurant attempts fine dining, not that it delivers. Q and I had an overnight off from our junior agents, and the combined delights of the hotel, spa and restaurant felt too good to miss. The room and Spa were wonderful, but the Truffles restaurant was not. Chef Richard Cameron has apparently been working at the Rowhill for five years now, and it is unfortunate that he has not had the energy or courage to model something more special rather than the fairly ordinary ham-fisted French cuisine on offer here. For one, all of the diners in the restaurant looked absolutely terrified and nothing was done by the uptight serving staff to make them feel any jollier. The main dining room had the overall feel of an airport lounge for the terminally ill or for those convicted of a major criminal felony. People did not talk, did not dare to, fearing someone might come out of the kitchen and say, "you’re next for the birching". Even in the hallowed halls of Gordon Ramsay in Chelsea there is an air of happiness, maybe confidence in the serving staff, but here there was drudgery, snobbish-ness and disdain. You could almost hear them think, "you’re from Swanley, aren’t you - do you deserve to be here?".

Enough of this - and on to the food. The food here was very poor on the night we visited. We were offered and accepted an amuse-bouche of Melon soup. It was all wrong. It only has any purpose if it lightens and prepares your palette. This was sweet and sickly. Our starters were also horrible. Q’s Ravioli of Crab and Lobster made her feel sick - she said that it felt like it was Crab paste inside - my Veloute of White Onion and Cider a sickly sweet soup (yes, you get the repetition?) with a ludicrous risotto cake floating in it. Main courses were also poor - Q’s steak unyielding (and not even given a steak knife!) - my halibut luke-warm and slightly crunchy on a bed of wilted spinach. Not tasty - any of it. No spice, no herby waftiness, no scrummy yumminess at the sheer wonder of the ingredients. I suppose at the end of it my real worry is what the AA and RAC are up to. Do they actually taste the food in these places? Do they, unlike us, get a show meal when they say they’re coming to visit? What damage is being done to commis chefs and the like working in places like this? What responsibility do we have to say to people it does not have to be like this. A pox on the bloody place. M