The Nightingale, Nightingale Lane, Clapham South.

Today is my good friend Andrew's 33rd Birthday. From that little snippet of information together with what else is on his Facebook page you should soon be able to start accessing his bank accounts. But it also means an excuse to go to the pub. For me, having given up drinking not more than19 hours ago, this could have been a risky manouvre, but fear not I remain sober. Self-control is my middle name.

Hasty plans were put in place to meet at an undetermined time with newspapers accompanying us to avoid the need for anything more than basic chit chat. I took the Sunday Times, Andy brought The Observer and the News of the World. I got to the pub at about half past two. There were no seats at all. It was packed with middle class folk and, horribly, some children. No sign of Andrew. Panicking I peered through the back door which led to their "Garden Area". There he was, tucking into his pint of Fosters in the autumn drizzle. I bounced up and wished him many happy returns. I then offered to buy him lunch to celebrate and he generously accepted. While he got over this kind offer I went to fetch some more drinks. A pint of Fosters for Andy and a pint of Diet Coke for me. Well, I asked for a pint of Diet Coke. Jodie, the tall Australian barmaid informed me that they didn't do it on draught but instead it came in bottles. 250ml bottles. Total bill for drinks £5.41. That's an expensive thimble of Coke.

I asked if they were serving roasts. Jodie told me that they normally did but were all out today. I wandered back to the table. Not feeling particularly excited by anything on the menu, we both plumped for the Chicken, ham and leek pie accompanied by mashed potato and peas, from the Specials Board. I ordered them (£8.50 each) and on the way back observed the Ploughmans Lunch being brought to another table. It looked very good. If I was a Ploughman I'd want that. Or a KFC.

No more than 5 minutes later our pies and mash appeared along with a little jug of gravy. Andy remarked that the mash looked just like mum used to make it. I'm glad it wasn't my mum. The potato was bland and watery. Gregg Wallace would have been having a fit. It's hard to mess up mash. I smothered it in gravy to compensate. Now for the pie. It was unacceptable. Initially it looked quite exciting. Good shape, texture (when prodded with fork), reasonably sized chunks of meat floating about as well as some identifiable bits of leek. So what a disappointment it was when upon chewing we found it had little to no taste. Lashings of salt and pepper were applied and when Andy suggested we cover the thing in ketchup I was somewhat tempted. On a lighter note, the peas were excellent.

Obviously when the waitress collected our plates and asked if everything was ok I lied and said yes. It's only polite.

We didn't look at the dessert menu, instead choosing to read our papers and occasionally stare at Luke Pritchard from The Kooks who was wearing some jolly good boots, but unfortunately tight jeans. He was being all cool until someone who was possibly his mum turned up. A man of middle age chose to stand uncomfortably close to where I was sitting (despite the beer garden being quite extensive). He smiled at Andy. Andy smiled back. I don't know what to make of that. I commented that I was feeling a little bit cold and put my coat back on. For the first time this season I was also sporting my grey Marks and Spencer lambswool jumper. It really had got that chilly. Andy went to fetch another round of drinks and returned not only with our beverages but also a big rug for me to put over my knees. While it was not an unkind gesture I felt I had to refuse the offer as I am not yet "that guy".

Finishing our drinks I asked him if he'd had a good birthday. He said that it was in his top 33. Job done!

Star ratings

Service *** - reasonable, but a bit tall for me.

Value** - £8.50 for a reheated Lidl pie and a lump of smash is too much.
As was the coke price.

Quality* - pissy

Ambience**** - fair play to the place, despite running children they kept it together.

Celebrity factor ** - They could have done with a better cook rather than a lonely Kook.