We're back, Back, BACK in the 'Bridge. Let's say you drew a line from the Wild Strawberry down to the Riverside Kiosk, then another from Frangipani along to Costa. With me? You'd have the shape of a cross. Towards the centre of your etching would be The Cross, est 1652. Only The Cross ain't no more, no sir. It's now the East Coast Diner, woot.

If it's hip and happening, we're already there, asking them to please turn it down a bit we can't hear ourselves think thank you kindly. I say we -- in fact, as I saunter in, Andy's already there lifting his Fentiman's cherry cola, a somewhat overpriced £3.50, yikes. In need of vitamins, I have the £3 juice, a fresh blend of apple, carrot and beetroot. With a soupcon of ginger, I'm transported back to the heady days of Avi's Carrot Cake.

Hot food on offer comprises posh pizza, gourmet burgers or hot dogs. Latter for both of us: "Pimp Steak" for him, "Big Frank" for me. Yes please, glam waitress, we'll have everything on the side. Ample space in here, not only the corner bit visible from the junction but goes back a fair way too. Ooh, grub's up, presented in a basket with a generous amount of skinny fries, most welcome on such a cold day. Condiments of the house and coiled paper menus are stylishly presented in, er, a bucket on the table. That's either horribly naff or terribly on trend. Our frankfurters have been trained by Barbara Woodhouse, they're such good dogs. good times.

With a central bar offering both cocktails and mocktails plus the odd DJ night, this ain't your run of the Tide Mill Woodbridge venue, daddio. All fab and groovy, innit. Cruel hands of time are running down and forcing us back to the workplace as we order dessert. I have to bolt my macchiato (comes in a glass?!) -- not ideal way to drink it, but my, that's a shot. As we did at The Table, it's pudd to go. Mid-afternoon, that cheesecake was muchly appreciated. Summary: I'll be going again and taking the kids with me.

If it was a car -- Black '55 Chevy.
If they were passing by -- Adam Richman.