It's very good to eat dinner on the train, it's expensive, cuts the boredom, and allows an escape from the plebs if you're travelling second class. Obviously it is fun to have a fancy meal served to you as you hurtle through the provinces in a metal tube.
The menu is a bit confused, no beef and many passe ingredients, but I began bravely with the Leek Brotchen, a passable soup, quite nourishing after my chilly sojourn in sUnderland: pizza and stotty and chips land, very unspecial, probably tinned. Cooled it with some ok Chardonnay, as the pleasant and attentive waiters and snooty diners tried not to gawp at my scruffy bohemian appearance. When will they, they learn that neckties and apartheid are out?
Next Cod with mouthblistering potataoes and unusually tasty mushrooms, the cod overcooked and flavourless, and tiny tomatoes silly and similar. Dessert or cheese the eternal dilemma solved by greed. Strawberries and cream in shortbread with basil dressing, was pretty nice, strawberries tasted of strawberries and agreed with the pesto. Cheese a little mild for a fiver, but nice with the celery ( an aphrodisiac?), crap coffee and a last sip of warmer wine.
Nearly back to the King's Cross now. Overhear the waiters ambiguously calling out the size of my tip, which is reasonable, also hear it was the good chef tonite. Well, travel hopefully and always eat dinner on trains for forty pounds.