You don't need to go far out of Tunbridge Wells to feel that you're in Hobbit country, where the old grey hairs meet thrusting young things and where food, trusty pub traditional food, becomes something strange and magical.

The Hare is a blinder of a pub, with four or five stripped wooden floor rooms, each with a different ambience, and an outside area that spills out on to the Green itself. I could easily see myself getting summerday-lagered while the assorted junior agents hoof Peter Kay balls around or tumble around the grass recklessly while picking little bits of dogshit out of their hair. The Hare is beautiful, has a trillion Scottish malt whiskies, are blessed to have a cheeky chirpy staff who are undoubtedly pleasant, so pleasant you want to cuddle them.

So, what about the food? Well its just plain damned weird. You see, the Hare are trying too hard. Every main course (and on the day I went there were 29 of them) seems over seasoned, over ingrediented, so that when you fix on something you fancy, your eyes drift along the menu and, there they go again they've had to toss a bloody Brocolli Mornay on it. The Sole, came with a "cheese and onion crust" - yeucch. The Duck came with Kumquats, the Parma Ham with a cinnamon poached conference pear, and so on and so on. Q and I (after a really hard struggle), eventually managed to settle on a couple of dishes - mine a "Pepper crusted Monkfish with bacon bubble and squeak and balsamic roasted plum tomatoes" which was ok - the vinegar ruining the tomatoes, and the monkfish slightly smashed, angry and plonked on an admittedly zippy b&s. Q's salmon and crab fishcakes were mountainous and obviously home-made, but lacked the crab zing to make it special.

Desserts veered between the defiantly traditional (Spotted Dick) and the mad - who wants honeycomb ice-cream for chrissakes - so we avoided.

The Hare gets an OK partly for trying very very hard....Spy advice - "do less better". M