Itchy City guide to Great Britain. Food, drink, film, music, stage, events, shopping, offers and competitions within Great Britain.

It's hard to imagine anything very interesting taking place in Bank. Suits are worn, numbers are crunched and at a push, economic crises are masterminded. But if you look carefully, hidden away in the basement of a Bow Lane building, there is a little corner of cocktails and colour, a rare breed in these parts: a Caribbean restaurant.

Mahoe isn't a restaurant in traditional terms, it is a café-bar, so things are pretty relaxed. In the absence of natural light the décor is mid-nineties-lime green, giving a slightly citrus feel - if not a totally tropical taste.

Our welcome was summery, and it wasn't long before we were introduced to the reggae rum punch, which was as violent as it sounds. With a kick that would shame a mule, it instantly put us in the mood. Unlike the 2-for-1 cocktails drained at hen nights, these were made from quality rum and freshly squeezed juice.

Like naughty schoolboys outside the headmaster's office, Mahoe's menu is a line-up of familiar names and faces. And rightly so, a Caribbean restaurant that doesn't do curried goat or jerk chicken is in serious dereliction of duty.

A sponge-like texture is normally only agreeable at bath-time, but for inexplicable reasons the springy-dense texture of the salt-fish fritters worked beautifully. Aided by the unmistakable heat of scotch bonnet chilli, our taste buds quickly went from standing at ease to attention. At four quid a pop, it was far from money frittered.

The papaya tiger prawns let out more of meow then a roar. And not just because of their size. It was as if the prawns had been on a date with their marinade, but it had been a brief fling and the marinade had not left much of an impression. The zingy flavours of ginger and lemongrass would ordinarily be welcome additions to a dip, but the mayonnaise base tasted like it had started life in a squeezey bottle, not a whisking bowl.

To say Mahoe cuts corners would be churlish. Our jerk chicken had been expertly prepared as a supreme (wing bone left on the breast), and executed with the love that a chicken breast needs if it is to remain moist. It arrived on a carpet of reasonably tasty rice, that was a little short on peas to be described as rice 'n' peas.

The curried goat was tender and totally at home with its earthy friends of potato, carrots and onion. A roti also made an appearance and was an able aid when it came to mopping-up duties. As a finicky footnote, Itchy felt this was good cooking, but perhaps not £14.95 cooking.

As carnivals go, the carnival cheesecake was a low-key affair, more village fete than Mardi Gras. If a register had been called, mango, raspberry and passion fruit would all have called their names, but they would have answered with a squeak not a shout.

Mahoe's food is not as dazzling as its décor, but portions are generous and the jerk sauce is perfectly piquant. Start the evening with a cocktail and fun can definitely be found.

www.mahoecafe.com

Hamish Smith