“Interesting.” Is normally a polite response to something one finds diffiulct to level with, and that is certainly quite apt for Proud Cabaret. The first thing that you might wish you had done once you have descended into the bowels of Minster Court, is that you after making your reservation you had dug out your ‘power cut kit’ of torches and candles. To say that PC is dark is an understatement, and for those of us suffering from SAD this isn't going to assist of a lunchtime. The staff alert you to this fact, the darkness, not your lack of handy boy scout preparedness, and advise you to proceed with caution as some of the internal steps are difficult to spot – mainly because of the 200 Watt Halogens in the floor that are blinding your night vision. The tables are decked out in all manner of sliver and glass and it is questionable as to whether you will be able to squeeze any food on the table. The staff are attentive to say the least, especially when another diner goes sunnyside up on her way back from the restroom. The food has some honest hearty fare; with Jerusalem artichoke soup with obligatory truffle oil drizzle and surprising inclusion of ricotta, pleasing the palate. The nostalgic trip down to school lunch lane leads me to a Shepherds Pie which was so intensely hot I wonder if the halogen bulb collection extended into the kitchen. The staff are well meaning and the current (lunchtime) offer of 2 for 1 makes it hard to pass up. I quite enjoyed the pianist, whose efforts went largely unnoticed by the suited lunchtime crowd. Maybe the evenings are livelier, but I am struggling to see who this is aimed at, and given city restaurants have to fight pretty hard these days for a more discerning crowd of corporate lunchers, this Stygian den needs to lighten up.