Cheap as chips

Clapham North has more in common with Brixton and Streatham than its more twee siblings: Common, Village and South. It even boasts a talking, flashing lamppost that warns passers-by and pavement loafers about the danger, and, indeed, illegality of smoking weed. Since I last spent any time here almost all of its pubs have gone modern and now serve fishcakes.

The Royal Oak used to be an old boys' boozer, then the owners of Rapscallion - a brunchy brasserie place up the road - took it over and did the most basic of gastropub makeovers. There is a very big telly screen at the far end of the room and some brown leather sofas beneath it. The rest of the room is a cluttered mix of salvaged Methodist church chairs and young professionals drinking pints and wine. The lighting is notably gloomy - it reminds me of my Polish piano teacher's sitting room in late Seventies Salford.

Diners sit where they will, and one busy, efficient and polite waitress deals with all of them. The food is incredibly cheap - so cheap I thought it would be bad but it was admirably OK at £30 for dinner for three: three main courses, three side orders, six fresh Irish rocks with plenty of seaside punch, olives and bread. I've had more banal olives in much smarter restaurants.

The market veg we ordered on the side were cooked al dente and drizzled with a herby butter. Some hefty chips were a bit floury, cardboardy and anaemic - they either used the wrong potatoes or were born of a freezer - and the aïoli that came with them was home-made, garlicky and not eggy enough. My burger had an overcharred exterior but inside its pinker parts had a good flavour, suggesting aged meat perhaps?

A small piece of cod with parsley potato mash came with a greasy crust of herbed breadcrumbs which reminded the man eating it (an ex) of the scraps you used to be able to buy from the chippy (itchings as they were called in Salford). The cod was not as pearled and silky as it can be, the mash was creamy, smooth, buttery. Priced at £6, I thought this was like eating rhino. His Lady had fishcakes. 'Bit dry,' she said.

If the food was a bit more spruce this place would be a tidy bargain, although a generous Sunday lunch for £8 must be classed as one.

I don't suppose provenance types would have multiple orgasms, but they can cross the river and eat at The Bluebird for four times the price.

The Royal Oak
73 Columbia Road, E2 7RG