MALMAISON at Oxford Castle

2:29pm Thursday 10th January 2008

There are some restaurants which are dreary, some which are dull, and some which are clearly dangerous...

Happily, I'm able to report that Malmaison is simply dangerous. And I don't mean that its steak knives are scythe-like, its spoons razor sharp or its forks maliciously serrated. Nor do I mean that the food it serves is deliberately unhealthy and grim.

No, all I'm bitching about is that once sat down, you'll find yourself helpless to control your finances - and not because it's especially expensive. Rather, it can be as expensive as you like, and therein lies the problem.

You see, what I've discovered since eating there is how quickly one finds oneself seduced by its oh-so-smooth surroundings. Indeed, assuming of course that you've taken along the right kind of dinner guest, it is possible to lose all sense of financial propriety.

And usually after just two or three minutes (take a stopwatch with you - I did). Unfortunately, on this occasion, I had indeed taken along the right kind of dinner guest (foxy, considerably younger, and sly enough to make me think I was funny).

Consequently, I immediately dispensed with the usual arithmetic it's wise to employ while perusing any menu, and instead ordered indiscriminately.

"We'll have this, a bit of that, a bottle or two of so-and-so and, yes you're right, we'd better kick off with a few of those and finish, if we've any room left that is, with a couple of glasses of..."

What a smug jerk. Financially speaking, I went into meltdown, with the overall bill coming in close to almost £200, but - and it is a BIG 'but' - I knew then, and still know now that it was money well spent. Why, I'll say in a moment, but first let me escort you through this exercise in dining recklessness...

Typically, it all started very modestly - you know, a couple of glasses of Champagne, some flirting with the waitress, my dinner guest, and a few of its older patrons.

But before I knew it, I was in over my head.

WHAT DID YOU CHOOSE?

Starters-wise, I plumped for the smoked salmon 'classic' (£7.50), while across the table, my date picked the grilled mackerel fillet, with sweet potato and lime pickle Riata (£6.25). Both, we agreed, were great.

Next up for me was the entrecote - a naturally-reared, grass fed, dry-aged on the bone sirloin (£18.50) - while little Ms Demure chose, rather too tastefully, I thought, the seared swordfish (£13.50). Again, no problems either side, and it's worth mentioning that both were served beautifully. In fact, our waitress was terrific - she was natural without being pally, and effortlessly efficient. We finished with a shared knickerbocker glory and a profiterole with vanilla ice cream (both £5.95).

WHAT MADE IT SO EXPENSIVE?

And if you've been doing your maths - which I wasn't - you'll have noticed how reasonable the bill was looking so far. What ruined this appealing state of affairs was my commitment to the fizzy stuff, and the fact that the drunker I got, the funnier and sexier I thought I became (well, who hasn't?).

The critical point about all this however is the fact that I/we felt comfortable enough to do this. Indeed, we sat in the restaurant for nearly five hours (and that is a long time), eating, drinking, laughing. And when the bill came, all I could think was: 'I've just had £200 of great memories...' (I continued to think that the following morning too).

VERDICT: So, a good night out? Definitely. And would I eat there again? Unquestionably.

Editor's choice