Emma's review of Smiths of Smithfield

I love watching Masterchef, but I fear John Torode is appearing in the wrong cookery program. He might be better suited to appear as a victim in an episode of Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares. It would be great to see Gordon in action here, saving SOS from any further decline.

We had an early table, it was busy and atmosphere was buzzy. You go to SOS for a good steak – you would hope that being located in Smithfield Meat Market, this would be the case. No starters, just looking forward to a really well cooked steak and chips. The food arrived incredibly fast, which always worries me. The waiter presented us with our food which looked pretty appetizing along with a small pot of bernaise sauce and promptly turned on his heel and left the table. Is it just me, or is it reasonably standard to be asked if we would like any other other condiments to accompany a steak? Hoping he would return and without disrupting the flow of conversation with my friend, I waited for him to return. He didn't.

The steak was very average, too grey, chewy and not really of great quality – I didn't enjoy it. The chips were anemic, bland and slightly undercooked, the bernaise not enough to compensate for lack of any other condiment. Our lovely waiter returned to clear our plates clearly not bothered if we enjoyed our meal – if he was, he didn't ask. Two mid priced bottles of red (another friend had joined us) and two cheese plates later we were told that it was time for us to vacate our table…

“Oh we were just thinking about ordering another drink – would it be possible for you to see if there is any space downstairs to relocate before we moved? ”

“No, we don't deal with the other parts of the restaurant on the other floors.” The bill was slapped on the table.

We paid it (including wine nearly £60 each) and left via a visit to the Ladies Room.

First cubicle – out of order.
Second and third cubicle – light bulbs out and pitch dark.
Fourth cubicle – light bulb on highlighting the wet floor and loo roll which had fallen out of it's holder onto said wet floor.
Fifth cubicle – just about acceptable.
Sinks – one of taps in industrial style sink covered in black bin liner and finally, no soap.

Three words… SOS!