Automat

An upmarket American restaurant is a tricky proposition: get it right & the result is gloriously comforting; mess up & diners are left wondering why they didn’t spend their money in one of the cheaper high-street chains. Sadly, Automat currently tends to the latter approach, & what used to seem sassy now feels cynical. Crab cakes, while subtly sweet & well spiced, were served lukewarm, an unappetising effect enhanced by the slimy guacamole accompaniment; a cheeseburger to follow had only the smallest smear of Swiss cheese & was served with flaccid, undercooked chips; puddings, including Mississippi mud pie, were notable only for being very sweet. Clumsy & inattentive staff only added to the impression of an operation where nobody seems to care very much; a shame, because Automat’s two dining rooms – one decorated like a 1950s railway carriage, the other a bright, tiled space – make a handsome setting.