Firstly I have to say that the waiting staff here were great. Considering we went on a discount voucher, they couldn't have treated us better had we paid ££££s. They truly do not deserve to work in such an awful place and if anyone is in the market for good waiting staff, hot foot it down to St James's and rescue these poor souls.

Whilst I had read about the eclectic decor, nothing could have prepared me for how oppresive, sleazy and OTT it is in reality. I got off lightly as in my direct line of sight was a somewhat suggestive but otherwise inoffensive print of budding roses, my poor friend had an eyeful of Miss Whiplash for the entirety of the evening. What are they thinking? We fully expected some erotic dance act to appear at any minute…

The menu is not exactly inspiring but with so many classics, the expectation, particularly with this being MPW's “signature” establishment, was that they would be executed perfectly…oh dear. My prawn cocktail was a mound of shredded iceberg, with (granted) a generous serving of the world's tiniest prawns topped with a dollop of a somewhat bland Marie Rose sauce. It was ok but I make better myself. My companion's parma ham and avocado met the description but was plated with neither effort nor finesse. We both had fish and chips as main course – fish was fine but the chips had been heated to almost nuclear levels and were almost impossible to cut into due to the hardness of their outer skins. I don't mind admitting, I love chips and this is the first time I can recall that I finished my meal with chips remaining. We really could not face a stodgy dessert much to the consternation of the waiting staff ("it is included in the price").

On the MPW website there is currently a competition with a prize of dinner with the man himself at Wheeler's. I was half tempted to enter if only to see whether the quality of food improves when the boss is the diner. But then I thought of the headache I got from spending a few hours in that room and thought… More