And so, with this somewhat back-to-front way of being positive, I can’t commend the Mellow Beach Club enough for the way they dealt with my complaint. It was impeccable. Unfortunately, when it comes to food and service they have a long way to go.

Mellow by Custo is a collaboration between Belgian Dirk Vervaet, the former Porsche Cup racing driver, and Pedro Monge the roaming celebrity chef (who it is rumoured Madonna was keen to add to her entourage before Vervaet secured him for this project). Custo Dalmau, the flamboyant fashion designer, is behind the design of the place. Perhaps they should all have stuck to their day jobs.

The day of my visit we arrived, without a reservation granted, to a full terrace (the interior is dark, clubby and less appealing). But a groovy little thing in shorts and flip-flops said a table was coming free shortly, asked us to wait and left us standing, like rabbits caught in headlights, in the middle of the floor. We took ourselves off to the leatherette banquettes (very Nineties of you Mr Custo, if you don’t mind my saying) and waited, and waited, and waited. After, oh I don’t know, 20 minutes of being studiously ignored, Monge sidled over, looking ever so slightly grim, and offered a drink on the house to pacify the encroaching bad mood.

Twenty minutes after that we were finally seated. Fifteen minutes after that someone took our order. Another 15 minutes went by and we begged for some bread to stave off the hunger pangs. When the food finally arrived it went something like this: Caesar salad consisting of a pile of diced, pallid chicken meat, a microscopic pool of dressing and a bag of supermarket mixed leaves upended over the top of it. There were no Parmesan shavings, not a hint of an anchovy. In my starvation I chomped miserably down on this uninspiring little lot and wondered what the hell they were doing. Suffice to say my guest’s Greek salad was not a whole lot better.