Red Chilli, Great Portland St, Manchester

Great expectations after reading in the Guardian a couple of weeks ago that this was worth a detour, if only to look at the names of the dishes. Would you eat something called Mrs Spotty's Bean Curd, a confection devised, apparently, by a leper? You ought to - it's lovely. I could not bring myself to order His 'n' Hers Sliced Lung, however. The predominant flavours on the menu are Sichuan, but there's other stuff for less robust appetites.

To start: prawn crackers and spring rolls - both quite okay; shredded mange tout in a sesame dressing and shredded chicken in a sauce. The mange tout was wonderfully refreshing and the perfect foil to the sauce on the chicken which, on a first tasting, seemed almost like a Thai peanut sauce but then, after a few seconds, shot flame from the bituminous regions of hell, detonating pepper corns in the back of the throat.

Mains were the aforementioned bean curd, served with a minced beef sauce and with a side order of Beijing dumplings, both pictured, filled with meat paste and veg, and, for the girls, shredded chicken with peanuts, peas, beans and pepper. A little too spicy for them, but the whole thing was so nicely done and with such nice staff that they want to go back to eat something like sweet and sour battered chicken. £48 for three including soft drinks.

Cappuccino count: 8/10. Some like it hot. Lots of favourable reviews on the web.

The Angel, Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk

Eighteenth century grandeur in the town square and slap bang opposite the abbey ruins and the cathedral. Pictures show a building encrustulated with ivy, although most of it has been cut down. Still very grand.

A quick lunch: terrine of Suffolk ham with piccalilli served in a few leaves; rare tuna steak on green beans and skinned blanched peppers. My companion opted for mozzarella salad followed by beautiful little hand-wrought tortellini parcels with a cheesy filling. All delicious and beautifully presented, though this is another place where photographing the food would be to invite ejection.

£35 with a couple of drinks and a couple of double of espressos.

Cappuccino count: 7/10. A genteel experience. Food very good.

EV, Isabella St, Waterloo

Sorry there's no photo. I was so hungry, flustered and impatient that the plates were half empty before I realised. EV is in railway arches and includes a bar, deli and restaurant. Close by (20-minute walk in different directions) are branches of Tas, part of the same firm.

Started with a meze sampler with humus, kisir (crushed walnuts, oil, mint etc), dolma, tarama, kozda platlican (egg plant, tomato, garlic), felafal, some yogurty things, bit of bread. Followed with deep-fried squid in a sweet sauce and, slightly disappointing, koftie of lamb and pine nuts. But overall, very good and a lovely location. Just very relaxed.

Cappuccino count: 7/10. Staff really lovely but run off their feet on an unexpectedly busy Saturday afternoon. Will go again.

Patisserie Valerie, Old Compton St, Soho

I was asked recently to take a look at The French House in Dean St. It looks rather marvellous and I've made a mental note to sit in on a weekday afternoon, maybe in a month or two, with a bottle of something and to stare out of the window the while. But since I had one of my daughters with me, that particular avenue of pleasure was closed today. Instead, Patisserie Valerie, just around the corner in Old Compton St, provided the ideal alternative. The window showcases cakes decorated with swirls, curls and unimagined constructions of chocolate, lovely heaps of fruit and heart-stopping dollops of cream. All is yummy.

Once inside, it is best to go upstairs in the hope of getting a window seat. Failing that, anywhere will do. Smoking is allowed in half the room, though only until the general ban is introduced on July 1. Other than on public health grounds, this is regrettable: the place conjurs up smoky French provincialism of the 1950s and is the better for it.

The order was: citron presse for two, a pot of Colombian coffee, various sorts of club sandwiches, a little chocolate moussy thing and a raspberry tart with shortcrust pastry and filled with confectioners' custard. The sandwiches are prepared freshly on toasted granary bread and packed with meat, cheese, tomato, mayonnaise. Absolutely delicious. I can't say that the cakes are made on the premises but they were equally lovely. Lunch for two: £27.

Cappuccino count: 9/10. Very good.

Tapas Brindisa, 18-20 Southwark St, Southwark

And so from the ridiculous to the sublime. It is fatuous to claim to have a "favourite" place to eat in London, there being so much choice of both cuisine and venue, but if I had to name a current favourite, this would be it. Tapas Brindisa is found in a converted potato warehouse on the edge of Borough Market, across which there is a store selling most of the ingredients that feature on the menu. Getting a table is a matter of luck since bookings are not taken. One other point: there doesn't seem to be a high turnover a staff
- indicative, perhaps, that they enjoy the work and believe they are doing something worthwhile and doing it well. It is best to order a bit at a time rather than everything at once.

First order: two glasses of manzanillo fino - pale, cold, woody but not sour, very dry, lovely finish; a slice of potato torilla - tepid, sweet, soft to bite but firm and substantial on the plate, a light crust of egg and annoyingly impossible to reproduce at home; warm spinach salad with sultanas and pine nuts; five huge prawns served in hot oil that had been flavoured with sliced garlic and little red-hot chillis - a lovely bite sensation, fleshy, warm, white and firm. The tortilla and salad had a light dusting of rock salt which brought out all the other flavours.

Second order: bottle of rose rioja (garnacha and tempranillo blended with viura) - beautifully cold and pink with fruit flavours but not an overpowering smell, very good; charcuterie of Teruel Serrano ham, finely sliced pork loin, paper-thin chorizo and salchichon, also served with bread and a little bowl of peppery oil.

Third order: anchovy salad - a few fillets, not too salty, in fact not at all salty, with sliced sweet pepper, red onion, rocket, walnut fragments, garnish of mint and parsley; five slices of pork loin - browned on savoury on the outside, pink and melts-in-the-mouth soft in the centre and served with a large slice of Piquillo pepper, very sweet.

Still with me? I am getting rather ashamed now at the size of this meal.

Fourth order: chocolate mousse - beautifully piped out in a glass, chocolatey, not sugary; egg custard flavoured with cardamom and with a thin but crunchy brown sugar crust, almost like a sheet of glass (blowtorch?); two glasses of espresso with rum - a sudden and shocking boost of alcohol with caused instant flushing and beads of sweat on the forehead.

An hour or so at the table and the bill was £90, the most I have ever spent here. Never had a bad meal, only ever had good ones - breakfasts and lunches as well as afternoon snacks and quick coffees. Drop everything and go now.

Cappuccio count: 11/10. Transformed by gluttony into a barrel of sac and rolled home to bed.

Ikea Lakeside, Heron Way, West Thurrock

No visit to pine furniture Valhalla would be complete without a stop for meatballs, berry sauce, gravy, chips, a nice little franzipane cake with an iced top and a cup of coffee. I don't know what meat is in the balls or what berries are in the sauce but I do know that the gravy is similar in colour and texture to lathe coolant and, to continue the image, the chips are like swarf. You get 15 meatballs in a regular serving, 20 in les grande edition. Also on the menu is haddock in breadcrumbs, garden peas and chips with a slice of lemon and a sachet of Heinz tartar sauce. All the food is left on a hot counter, which is handy because the service is so desperately slow, as it is at the checkout. Coffee ok. £10.70 at the till.

Cappuccino count: 2/10. As with all junkfood, you are hungry 20 minutes later.

Little Chef, eastbound A14, Kettering

The inexorable slide towards awfulness continues, and there's not far to go now. Yet I remain fond of the brand and wish dearly that Little Chef was not in such straits. The order was a double Olympic burger - two 6oz patties of head, hoof and hide, bacon, cheese, onion rings, chips, lettuce, relish, tomato (£7.49) - and a mug of coffee (£1.69). Problems: the coffee was dreadful, either instant or too long in a jug. The burger came with ciabatta, which is simply not done - it has to be a soft, white bun. Decor shabby and staff trying their best but, I would guess, quite demotivated.

Cappuccino count: 1/10. Did not finish.