Flavour Bastard, London W1: ‘There’s me thinking Sexy Fish was as bad as it got’ – restaurant review | Marina O’Loughlin

Rather than the screechy jazz, Nero should be fiddling somewhere in the background

By the time you read this, everything that can possibly be said about this place’s attention-seeking name will have probably been said by other more rapid-response observers. (Re: that attention-seeking – hey, it works.) So I’ll content myself with telling you about it in action. The name? Brace yourselves: it’s Flavour Bastard. Roll that around your tongue: flaaavour baaastaard. And there’s me thinking Sexy Fish was as bad as it got.

When I call to book, the person who answers the phone comes up with something that sounds like, “Good evening [normal voice], FLAVOUR [bellowed],” followed by a tiny, indecipherable, mouse-like squeak. The pattern is repeated when we arrive: “Hello, welcome to FLAVOUR *tiny, mouse-like squeak*.” We may be laughing like loons, but staff appear to be less amused and more terminally embarrassed.

Related: Neo Bistro, London W1: ‘This is uncharted territory for the branché and cool’ – restaurant review | Marina O’Loughlin