Newman Street Tavern, London W1, restaurant review Newman Street Tavern is very designerly designed: the 'quirky' framed posters are minutely planned, the seating looks hotchpotch but is suspiciously comfortable, even the handles on the outsized chiffoniers are trompe l'oeil. The fact is, on real estate this prime, nobody can afford to make a mistake; and sometimes the atmosphere of no mistakes being made can feel slightly airless. If you think I'm being daft with that objection, my companion, JD, was annoyed that they were showing off about their 'two-metre raw bar'. 'How long do they think other raw bars are?' he raged. What could you even fit on a raw bar that was less than two metres? So you can imagine the kind of mood we were in as we tucked into our clams (me; £8) and pork brawn (him; £5). The clams had a briny, thin flavour. Some lava bread on the side had a hideous textural clash with the seaweed atop it. The flavours were very muted and it was all underseasoned. JD's pork was much more attractive and the texture firm but relaxed, the flavour meaty, honest and pubby. If you'd been fed it for a ploughman's 20 years ago, in a rural hostelry, you might have collapsed, crying, with gratitude. With food having come so far, I think it was underambitious - brawn sounds trendier than terrine, but is in fact mainly cheaper (there being less demand for the head and feet of a pig than most of its other bits). And now I've been so vulgar as to bring up money, I am struck by the incredible cheapness of the ingredients in all our dishes, economies that were not, ahem, altogether reflected in the price. OK, £12 is not a huge amount to pay for any main course. And you could also argue that JD shouldn't have ordered pilchards in oatmeal if he wasn't harking back to some earthy, Lawrentian era, when the eating of dirt-cheap protein had some moral portent. But it was a joyless affair, the dark, unpleasantly potent flesh seeming to hide beneath the crust. I had haggis (£15), which was lovely. Quite a significant liver component gave it a wonderful squidgy texture, the taste was a meat tombola, flavours tumbling over each other, the whole thing delicious. I also had some honeyed parsnips (£3.50) that I thought to-die-for but JD thought way too sweet. And he had some king cabbage (£3) that he thought great and I thought a bit indeterminate. I finished with the cheese (£12), which I know is inexcusable. There are only three things you can do with cheese: the first is choose anything smoked, since this is the mark of someone who doesn't like cheese; the second is buy it from a supermarket; the third is cut it into pieces too tiny, thus creating a miserly atmosphere, not to mention filling the diner with the desire to stick a cocktail stick in it and pretend to be Margot Leadbetter. This plate did none of those things, and was therefore fine. I chose it, incidentally, because I was still a bit hungry - of course I'd had plenty to eat but, like so many of my species, if I waste appetite on food that I'm not wild about I don't feel full. JD had a rhubarb jelly (£7) doused in single cream, with dots of membrillo floating idiosyncratically about. The quince jelly was far stiffer than the main jelly but somehow it worked, and the flavours were good together in that quirky, similar-but-not-the-same way that two different pinks will sometimes match. The Newman Street Tavern isn't awful by any means, and I would give it another go - the menu is in perpetual flux, with some promising dishes, and the place is so central. But its faint primness, set against hit-and-miss food, makes me think it's attending to the wrong details. The Cawdor Tavern Cawdor, Nairn (01667 404777) Scottish meat is the star of the show at this pub, where log fires, wood panelling and a rich russet colour scheme make a cosy setting for drinkers and diners. The signature dish - the haggis-stuffed chicken breast - is a must (£13.95) The Taverners High Street, Godshill, Isle of Wight (01983 840707) Whether you're popping in for a pint of ale and some pickled quail's eggs (£1.50), or lingering over slow-roast pork belly with celeriac bubble and squeak (£12.50), don't forget to browse the shop for home-made marmalades and pâtés. The Guildhall Tavern 15 Market Street, Poole (01202 671717) The friendly French couple who run this old-town restaurant have a loyal following, and with good reason - their seafood, much of it landed at Poole harbour, is excellent. Try the sautéed monkfish with a crayfish and lobster reduction (£20.95)