CIGALA

Lambs Conduit Street harbours many gems. One of the lesser shining is the LA Fitness which I have avoided staunchly since a traumatic spin class two days after joining, now quite some time ago. As I crawled into my cab home I remembered how fondly and enthusiastically a friend had recommended a restaurant but steps away from the scene. I was determined that if my limbs were ever strong again, I would return to taste.

Tonight was the very night! As Jenny and I sheepishly passed our neglected gym/torture chamber, eyes averted, we anticipated a meal that would melt our guilt clean away.

No Such Luck. Cigala is a trendy tapas restaurant with a great wine list. Let me say, we loved our carafe - nothing house wine-y about that! The meal was a slightly different tale. It was perfectly acceptable and it is true to say we left merry and full but there was something amiss. It just wasn't particularly special, I suppose. There was nothing overwhelming, unusual or distinct about it - mainly we dreaded our bill. Our fellow diners seemed to be holding business meetings and I have no doubt that this would be a perfect venue for one. However, our search for sensory pleasure was left wanting (the hot waiter helped - a bit.) Having said that, the place was buzzing even as we left at 10.30pm so they must be doing something right. Perhaps we just made the wrong choices...

A rather salty Tortilla - and I love salt, so imagine!

Tomato on Toast(!)

Beetroot, orange, carrot and bean salad

 Tuna and anchovy salad

The highlight of the evening: Hake sandwiched between aubergines and deep fried

If you do go, say hi to the waiter from us! More me... Jenny wasn't that into him.