We were quite enthusiastic about this place: looked nice, had a "hidden find' feel to it and had very positive reviews on a certain food review website. Reviews on which I'm beginning to take with a Siberian mine full of salt these days. Didn't work out so idyllically, though. Normally, I’d have a good chuckle about useless service, mis-rendered orders and sheer breathtaking indifference to customer satisfaction. But, unfortunately, I’m bored of all that so now I’m just angry.

The good bits...

When they don’t completely, abjectly screw up your perfectly simple order, the burger is tasty. (Chips aren’t, though: essentially they are fried oven chips).

Also, the setting is nice. When the weather’s good (the roof leaks).

Unfortunately, there's the rest...

1. The atmosphere: upon arriving, the music was at the “so good it must be clearly heard over conversation” volume. (To such "must-listen" gems as Kung Fu Fighting and Rhinestone Cowboy). Arguably, the preferable volume is “we’re having brunch and a natter at 1030 on a Sunday morning” (often called "background"). The furthest chair in the entire restaurant is, like, 3 meters away. So no need for the concert-like wattage. We asked if it could be a little quieter but any resultant change was too slight for the battered human ear to identify. Later on, they added singers. Yes, singers - at 1030 on Sunday brunch. Three feet away from our table. Who then proceeded to deafen us with feedback. The ambience could be nice but FHG thinks it's a nightclub for some reason.

2. The drinks: the orange juice isn’t fresh, the coffee was neither hot not tasty and the “white” coffee came black requiring milk to be brought in a “jug”. Or “espresso cup” as a half-decent establishment would have called it. The “jug” didn’t pour properly, not having a spout and all. Milk everywhere as a result.

3. The service: I asked for a burger without gherkins or mushrooms. Of course, it came with mushrooms. I’d cut it in half before I noticed and so we all had a good laugh saying, “Well, at least they can’t just wipe the mushrooms off and bring it back! Ha. Ha.” When I sent it back, do you know what they did? They wiped the mushrooms off and brought the burger back. Cut in half still.

Quick pause: clearly they just don’t give a crap, right? I can’t be the only person to think that if you bugger up a customer’s order, you should rectify it rather than just WIPING THEIR GODDAMN BURGER SOMEHOW AND THEN BRINGING IT BACK!!!!!!!! Right? Surely? Hmm?

Perhaps I'm unusual in thinking that recycling your mis-served food is totally unacceptable: I sent it back. They said, "Oh, you can't have any mushroom at all, izzit?" No, I just don't want any sodding mushroom - like I told you - nor do I want a burger on which you have performed some mysterious 'shroom-removal procedure. What I had initially ordered appeared ten minutes later. With a much smaller patty. And no cutlery. This is a burger that cost 24 bucks. 24 bucks++.

4. The timing: my wife’s food turned up ten minutes later than everyone else’s (except my burger v2.0). Is it really that tough to serve everyone at the same time? You’d have thought this is the very least a professional preparer of meals would attempt. Even McDonalds gets all the burgers in the same bloody bag, after all.

5. The food: my wife’s eggs B was crap. Ham was apparently made out of sponge. With salt. Spongy salty and grey-white. Ick. She decided "not to waste the calories" and it was pretty much returned intact.

6. More disappointing news on the food: the same goes for the cheese and ham toasties. Same quasi-ham. But – special fricking bonus – it was made with Kraft cheese slices. Seriously, the melted cheese had right angles and stuff. And was all shiny - like plastic but, crucially, unlike actual cheese. And was grim, in case you hadn’t guessed. 75% returned uneaten.

7. The English breakfast doesn't get any better: the “chicken" sausage stood out as especially flaccid, spongy and tasteless. Probably from the same genetically engineered pig/chicken/rubber plant as the “ham”. Also served on a laughably oversized plate, which served to emphasize the isolation of the few items on it.

8. The relentless professionalism: at some stage, a bloke (who gave the impression of having some sort of managerial or proprietorial stake in the place) turned up and optimistically asked if everything was all right. My natural reticence to complain had been severely eroded by the ceaseless nincompoopery and constant onslaught of noise and I updated him as to our findings re items 2-6 above. He feigned concern - and we never saw him again. His spirit lived on, however, in the bill – in which they charged us in full for the cold coffee, the hardly touched eggs Benedict, the 75% intact cheese and ham toasties and “service”. I assume the last was as some sort of parting sarcastic joke on his part. The same counterfactual sense of humour that led to some wag calling this place a “gastro-bar". Instead of "recyclo-bar" maybe.

We left as soon as they started unwrapping even bigger speakers – perhaps they were perturbed at the lack of blood pouring from our barely unshattered eardrums.