Restaurant Review: Red Panda

I ate out last night at the Red Panda, and thoroughly enjoyed it, despite being surrounded by people and staff.

When we got there it was packed to the gills, so they sent us to the bar and told us to hang tight for ten. But they called us back in five.

We had no starters. There was soup and that, if you like starters.

I had beef in oyster sauce. A bit bland in truth, I was scared off the Sizzling Szechaun Beef as it was described as 'very hot and spicy' in the menu. I should have taken it. My beef would have been better with a bit of mustard and some bread, for to make a sandwich. The sauce was nothingy.

The egg fried rice was good, but was £2.50 extra. I think they should include it for free, but it's a dog eat dog world. Hardest business in the world, the restaurant trade.

Vegetables were included. Stir fried tiny corn and beans and beansprouts. It was crunchy but I like that. You don't want soggy old vegetables, not while your teeth are healthy.

Three tattooed, scowling bald headed men in light coloured polo shirts & jeans sat on one table to the next of me. They barely spoke to each other. They were drinking Tiger lager.

A bloke with a terrible stutter was on the other side, he elongated his words so every sentence took a minute. Such as, to give you an example, instead of saying 'Dinner' he said 'DDDDDIIIIINNNNNNEEEEERRR.' I didn't mind. If anything, I enjoyed it. Life's rich tapestry and that.

His girlfriend/companion was pretty quiet. My mum said she was older than him but I didn't crane my neck to look.

They were all eating fatty red pork. It looked lovely. I was tempted to ask if I could have some, or thieve it. I'll get that next time. There was heaps of it.

I drank one Guinness, one Tennants and one Irish Coffee. They filled the coffee with whiskey, I was a bit tipsy by the end.

My companion (my mum) had some awful caramelised prawn shite, the sort of confectionery-based, over sweet sauce she favours in such establishments. Prawns in sugary goo, it was called. Probably.

She had three scoops of soft-served ice cream for dessert like a big wain. But it looked good. She also had a straw made from biscuits. She ate that first.

I didn't have dessert. What's the point of dessert? You never really enjoy it, you just feel guilty for being such a glutton guts. I said that to the waitress but she just smiled.

I left a £5 tip and took a little mint from a dish.

The toilets were OK, quiet enough and clean. Bit dark though.