The Prince Alfred

As I waited for my friend at Warwick Avenue tube station, a friendly member of staff started chatting to me. “I’m just meeting a friend for dinner” I responded to his enquiry about my evening’s pursuits. “Ahh, are you going to The Prince Alfred?” he asked. Either The Prince Alfred is exceptional, or Maida Vale is gastronomically barren.

I’m hoping it’s the former as we sashay in, already impressed by the building. From the outside it’s grand and Victorian, inside we are led to a large, plush dining room (which has been labelled separately to the pub and called the ‘Formosa Dining Room’) with white tablecloths and elegantly folded napkins on the tables. This is clearly not any old drinker’s pub.

Once we are seated we see Kelly Jones of the Stereophonics pacing around, talking into his mobile phone before sitting at a table near us with two other men. This is Maida Vale after all, one of the various NW neighbourhoods so beloved of rock stars, thesps and models.

My companion and I agree on a meaty dinner; for me, the Gressingham duck with spinach and a roast apple and port sauce (£16); for my friend, the wild boar sausages with onion gravy and mash (£10). My generously sized duck breast is disappointingly a little on the bland side, the sausages fare better however. The plump little bangers float on a rich savoury gravy - the perfect comfort food.

The place was suitably empty for a Monday night, however it was taking ages to get the bill and being in rather a hurry, we ended up walking up to the bar to pay. The waitress apologised profusely and murmured something about lack of staff; if only as much effort had been put into relieving the staff as into The Prince Alfred’s polished appearance.