To King's Cross, for dinner at a smart new restaurant. That's a phrase you rarely find yourself uttering. But if planners have their way, you'll be saying it a lot more often. Camino is the first such place to appear in the newly developed Regent's Quarter, opposite King's Cross station.

Half of Camino is a trendy drinking den, serving the thirsty post-work brigade cerveza and tapas. We sat on the restaurant side of the embossed zinc bar, wrestling with a menu concertina-ed to the size of a credit card. Once open, it becomes a kind of map, which charts your meal options from one side of Spain to the other.

The food in Camino is unapologetically, unpretentiously Spanish. I ordered the jamon Iberico, and that's what I got. A plate of shaved, cured meat, beetroot red but for quivering crests of translucent fat. No garnish. No nonsense. It was nutty, sweet and salty and tasted faintly of blood. Delicious. Spinach and mushroom soup was rich and earthy with a kick of good sherry.

Mains were more polarising. My solomillo de buey - a hefty fillet of beef from Strathclyde, of all places - was perfectly cooked. Charred without, bloody within, yielding easily to the knife. It dominated the plate, which otherwise contained only four tiny potatoes and half a grilled tomato.

Everyone knows that Spain is a difficult country for vegetarians to visit. So although the aubergine gratin ordered by my partner proved underwhelming, his expectations were already low.

Fortunately, a side dish of pan-roasted potatoes with egg, onions and paprika was so meltingly sublime he hardly noticed.

A shared almond tart proved a pleasant pudding, and took the edge off the bitter and watery cafe con leche.

Camino offers welcome respite from the bustle of King's Cross and hungry travellers may flock here. But if repeat custom is its aim then basics such as slow service, too-loud music and an overall lack of atmosphere need tackling. Hasta la vista? I'll wait and see.