William SITWELL

‘I saw the headline, and even I had to admit to a crush on Rishi Sunak … sleek Sunak as handsome in his suit as in his hoodie at home’

‘So while Sunak’s message is “eat out to help out”, don’t get any funny ideas about dining posh. Southern gits need not apply’

Isaw the headline, and then even I had to admit to a crush on Rishi Sunak. “Chancellor gives diners 50 per cent off on eating out” came the notification on my phone; the device shimmering, purring even.

Sleek Sunak is now for me as devastatingly handsome in his suit in the House of Commons as he is in his hoodie at home, his hands at the tiller of the nation’s finances, doubtless whether he’s reading his kids a bedtime story, pole vaulting, abseiling, or whatever he does at the weekends in his North Yorkshire constituency.

Britain is a food-loving nation these days. Restaurants are a cornerstone of our culture. You can eat well all over the country. We have come a very long way from the bleak, beige days of post-war Britain when orange juice was regarded as a course and a piece of shortbread, with macerated cherries and artificial cream, was tolerated as a pudding.

What’s more, there are serious numbers now associated with the hospitality industry, with some nine million jobs dependent upon it.

Which means politicians need to take it seriously, even if we don’t yet have a minister for gastronomy. And look what symbolic strides the likes of Boris Johnson have made. The latter actually does go to restaurants, or at least did before lockdown.

One never saw Mrs Thatcher dining out, and she was far too much of a cultural philistine to do dinner and the theatre.

But now, perhaps, they finally get it. And Sunak figures that, not just for the economy, but to grasp one day the keys to No10, he needs to fall in love with restaurants like the rest of us.

And so we see this lifeline, this large hospitality hug. Like so many restaurateurs, he knows that there are some cheeky tricks that can be employed to get us through the doors of establishments.

And “50 per cent off ” had me scrambling for my keys, grabbing a wife and child, and begging for a table, not too close to some rowdy group of youths and not too near the loos, either.

But then, as any of us who have ventured into an eaterie this side of lockdown know, we need to read the instructions. You can’t just book a table and show up.

Management want to chat about how their team bubbles work, there are temperatures to be taken on entry and even the humblest pub has a list of dos and don’ts. “Don’t stand at the bar and ask for a drink”, being a pertinent instruction that none of us could have imagined just a few months back.

So here’s the Sunak fine print. You can forget that deal today, or tomorrow, or Saturday or Sunday. It only operates Monday to Wednesday – you know, on those days when you don’t eat out.

But don’t start dreaming of how much lager you can sink, how many glasses of chardonnay you can sip, or if you can get 10 tequila slammers for the price of five (which, forget the food, is the reason you actually go out), because booze isn’t included.

And don’t make that schoolboy error of booking a table at Scott’s in Mayfair or Mana in Manchester, going nuts with your friends and then looking forward to an epic 50 per cent off when the bill comes. The maximum saving you can make is £10 a head. If you spend £10, you pay £5. If you spend £20, you pay £10. But if you pay more than £20, you still only get a tenner off.

So for £10 (or a Sunak fiver), that’s a plate of pea soup and some bread and butter at The Ivy. Or two sips of gazpacho at The Waterside Inn. It’s an omelette, with 5p to spare, at Café Rouge – except didn’t they go bust last week?

But at Pizza Express you can get some dough balls, a Four Seasons Pizza, and an Eton Mess cheesecake for £20 (a tenner with a Rishi voucher), so that’s more on the money, although you will need to check participating restaurants.

So while Sunak’s message is “eat out to help out”, don’t get any funny ideas about dining posh. Southern gits need not apply.

This is a voucher scheme to fill the tummies of Labour’s red wall. So, yes, it’s an audacious pitch for No10.