Meaty, companionable, a little frustrating - The Hemingway is equal to its muse

Its expression has been fixed by a taxidermist in a snarl giving way to a yawn.

The Hemingway is itself a strange hybrid. The macho American author is evoked in the colonial décor (maps, posters), though the effect is undercut by a school-dinnerish smell of chip fat.

In the lavatories, gentlemen have the bewildering pleasure of urinating between a pair of plastic lips, their model uncertain (Mae West? Mick Jagger?) The soap is posh: Molton Brown. Rough paper does for hand towels.

On a quiet bank holiday Monday, an East End crowd seemed at ease with these inconsistencies. Most sat at the outdoor trestle tables, their own faces fixed between yawns and snarls. Women in large sunglasses and hairy men with low-cut T-shirts drank interesting beers and ate cricket ball-sized burgers festooned with cheddar and bacon (£13.50).

Next to us, three mothers smoked Benson & Hedges as one rocked a pushchair.

Food came from a butch menu entitled Grazing at The Hemingway. An oozy scotch egg (£3.75) came with a ramekin of sharp piccalilli. Buffalo mozzarella was skewered with tomato, aubergine and courgette into a cute little tower (£5.50).

From the specials, pink Welsh lamb arrived nestling in curly kale, scattered with little cubes of chorizo and tomato, juxtaposed with a smear of aubergine (£16.50); flavoursome olive gnocchi were teamed with shiitake and oyster mushrooms in a white wine sauce (£11.50).

Service was quirky. I asked our waiter whether the lamb came with potatoes. "Our mains come with no carbohydrates," he said, before running me through the options: thin chips, fat chips, sweet potato chips (all £3.50). Fat chips, I decided, thinking regretfully of that oily smell.

A return to the bar revealed a more puzzling omission - no coffee. I toyed with a digestif - the range runs to Japanese malts, boutique rums plus "whatever we pick up on our travels" - before deciding on an amaretto and cherry tart to share (£4.50).

Meaty, companionable, a little frustrating - at least The Hemingway is equal to its muse.

The Hemingway
84 Victoria Park Road, E9