Zebrano

"A typical West End bar, but fun"

Added Tue 26 Aug 2008 by Leila Hawkins

I was far away from my comfort zone and in a territory I’ve been avoiding most of my adult life. A beach party at a bar in the West End, which had been filled with sand for the occasion; alas a beach party with no sun, sea, or indeed beach. Upon entering I deeply regretted not thinking this through further, if only to have worn more appropriate footwear as my heels kept sinking into the sand.

It was 7.30pm on Friday night, the August bank holiday weekend, and the venue was already packed, but having booked a table I took a deep breath and tentatively looked for a member of staff. “One minute please” said the first waitress. “Let me check” said the second waitress after waiting for 10 minutes. “Oh it’s the table up there” said the third waitress after yet another 10 minutes, as she pointed to a table that was already full. Increasingly annoyed and beginning to contemplate making a speedy exit, my friend approached a managerial looking type and told him I was here in the capacity of reviewer. And my, what a difference this trivial elevation of status makes. A gaggle of staff lunged at me for introductions and to offer me drinks. I was seated within 10 seconds and we were taken good care of for the next few hours.

We were brought two very good mojitos which went down well after our wait. All the cocktails are priced at £7, the Palm Spring Splash was a delicious combination of mango and lime juices with vodka, which was so good I gulped it as if it was fruit juice. The Mr Collins, a blend of guava juice and gin, was ordered by my friend so she could check the accuracy of the ‘three raspberries’ mentioned on the menu. She was highly disappointed as they appeared to have been blended with the other ingredients.

The food was above average; excellently seasoned, tender lamb koftes with tzatziki, and delicious monkfish, prawn and salmon skewers. The dishes were in the £4-£5 price range, reasonable for the tapas like portions, and were cooked on the specially set up outdoors barbecue. A vegetable burger ordered shortly after the rest of the food failed to turn up, as did my second Palm Spring Splash; upon querying these at the bar my friend was told there was no table service, despite the fact that we’d been getting table service all evening. Essentially there is none; however the word ‘review’ ensured we didn’t have to get up for a few hours until they’d forgotten all about it.

After waiting for the non-appearing drink and burger and our irritation growing with the increasingly drunken behaviour of those around us, we decided to explore the downstairs. A huge space with two bars, seating and space to dance occupies the basement. The music policy consisted of house anthems, popular enough for the masses, yet serious enough for musical snobs like myself to enjoy, and despite our vow to ‘have one drink and head off’ we ended up staying well into the early hours, the DJ’s choice of records leading to much dancing and laughter, including, I have to admit, laughing at the drunken movements parading as dancing by some heavily inebriated lads.

Most of the punters had come straight from the office still in their suits, and the atmosphere was that of a typical boozy, straight West End bar, but despite my apprehensions Zebrano kept me entertained for much longer than I expected. I’d strayed from my comfort zone, but it hadn’t been that bad.