Do not enter Brasserie St Jacques unless you welcome being deafened, yes pulverised, by live opera. For the first half hour, before social ice has even been broken, you will be stranded at your table without water, without wine, without your order having been taken, with only dry butterless bread for consolation. You will be reminded of the neighbour from hell. This is the neighbour who, on a hot summer's evening, will throw open his windows and inflict on you – whether you protest or not – his own favourite music at deafening decibel levels equivalent to the loudest West End disco. Except you are within the confined space of a restaurant. Conversation is impossible.

All of this is unannounced, unadvertised, unexpected. Deafening orchestral backings are played at badly recorded (ie, wrong) tempi, and are accompanied by a piercingly live soprano and a tenor who loom over your table dramatising the murders and intrigues of the Italian repertoire IN YER FACE. The food is OK to indifferent and not cheap. Drinks appear only after many, many repeated requests through the frankly victorious general noise. A second half-hour audio assault is guaranteed to ruin your main course. If you're on hot date, better go for some pub grub in a quiet corner at the nearby Captain's Cabin.