In November, I gave a well-deserved bollocking to the cafe in Cornwall Park, which has been, for a year or more, the only place in the vast green expanse to get a meal or even a cup of tea.
To say it gave me no pleasure to do so would be a lie: there is always an element of cathartic satisfaction in repaying a stinking meal with an excoriating review, but strange as it may seem, reviewers don't seek out bad experiences.
So I approached the bistro - the new name for the extensively revamped old cafe up the top of the drive - with my heart in my mouth. Comments from readers suggested that my earlier experience was not an aberration. Here were the same people, the same chef: how good could it be, even if that chef, James Kenny, has worked under Gordon Ramsay?
The answer is bloody fantastic. It is more formal than the cafe - "smart casual dining" they are calling it - though nobody turned a hair at my dining companion's clobber of electric pink shorts and flip-flops.