Restaurants

BARRICA, GOODGE STREET, LONDON W1 THE CLOCK HOUSE, RIPLEY, SURREY

In addition to ear-splitting music, replacing old-fashioned chairs with very high stools is the latest wheeze restaurants are employing to move us out fast. Actually, ‘stool’ is a misnomer. Someone is making a packet out of sawing long wooden ladders in two and putting a very uncomfortable square slab on top. I’ve suffered from vertigo ever since I took the chairlift to the top of Vesuvius, at the age of 11, screaming in unison with my father all the way up. The steps down from a tower at San Gimignano felt the imprint of my 19-year-old behind as I bounced down to ground level. My girlfriend tripped down pretending not to know me, despite my shrieks of ‘you in the blue dress, they know I belong to you!’

So, for 30-odd years, I have avoided skiing, roof terraces, balconies and funiculars, unless crouched on their floors, at baby height. It was going great until my lunch at Copita in Soho with Lisa and Vicky, of The Oldie’s ad sales team. While they pole-vaulted to the top of their stools with the grace of circus acrobats, a waiter helped me up. His head was level with the table top as he took our order for tapas and sparkling rosé, none of which I touched; in the absence of a safety net, I was too frightened to move an inch.

That night Simon and I, who cleverly made each other godfather to the other’s son, had planned dinner with our saintly boys. The stool height at Barrafina was still worrying, so I cancelled and called Barrica, one of Alexander Chancellor’s favoured haunts. ‘Do you still have tables of normal domestic height at which I won’t have to pop my ears?’ Of course, they did, but only at the back. So, passing under the stools of millennials who were tottering their way to A&E, we grabbed our patch. Feet on the ground, seats at 30 inches above terra firma, we rejoiced in their gambas, bacalao and spinach croquettes, braised lamb, ribeye and

presa Iberica. It’s the best Spanish restaurant in the West End, and lots of fun.

I had to meet James, with whom I have worked for nearly 20 years, near Guildford. I’ve only ever been to Guildford once, and that was for an Oldie event I organised in the early Nineties. Needless to say, only six people turned up, half of whom were unemployed (and unemployable) members of my wife’s family.

However, neighbouring Ripley boasts a Michelin one-star restaurant, and so it should, given it must rank as the prettiest town in Surrey, way ahead of my birthplace, Redhill, which the aforementioned Lisa (of nearby Beckenham) assures me is, basically, Croydon. At least, I was only born there, say I. If you ever want to have a huge row over dinner (with anyone but Lisa), head straight to the Clock House, at Ripley. The tables are so far apart that other dinner guests will never hear a word.

The lunch menu offers a choice of two starters and two main courses (never ‘mains’!). Opt for the beef, if it’s on the menu, because they give you a really scary knife, which you can use to defend yourself. There is also the most enormous garden and terrace for drinks. Well worth a day out. If coming by train from Redhill or Croydon, ask for a single.

Barrica, 62 Goodge St, London W1T 4NE; tel: 020 7436 9448; www.barrica.co.uk; dishes from £5 to £14.

The Clock House, High Street, Ripley, Surrey GU23 6AQ; tel: 01483 224777; www.theclockhouserestaurant.co.uk; three-course set lunch: £35.