I’ve been having bad luck on the review front over the past couple of weeks. First there was the restaurant that neglected to mention we’d be sharing our table with another couple until we turned up, hungry and looking forward to dinner. Er, no thank you. Then there was the place that had a fire in the kitchen the day I filed my (good) review – much worse luck for them than for me, of course – and won’t be back open for a few weeks. (Spoiler alert: it’s San Lorenzo’s on South Great George’s Street; put it on your list.) And then there was the restaurant where the chef was stuck in an airport somewhere rather than cooking our dinner. That didn’t turn out too well either.

ut a few weeks back, a friend brought me to Locks for dinner one Saturday night and I’d loved it. Because I’d been her guest and hadn’t paid for dinner, I wasn’t reviewing, but when I was scrambling around for a last-minute replacement, it was the obvious place. I booked in for Sunday lunch.

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