An auspicious date: 08.08.08, (oh-ate) x3. But where should we three eat? Thought we'd go green-ish and aim for somewhere relatively close to base. On to A12, then A1214, right down Hall Road and on to The Street. Oops, missed the car park on the left, so a quick U-ey and there he is, old one-eye. We have docked at the Admiral's Head in Little Bealings.

You're right, this is a pub, not a tea room: shouldn't have set that precedent with the Red Lion. A Friday lunchtime, what you'd imagine should be a busy period, in we go... and immediately double the number of punters. En route, we'd all remembered coming here before, yonks ago. Maybe everyone's up the road at the posh new Milsoms in Kesgrave? We'll most likely head there when we've all got plenty of (a) time and (b) spare cash.

Anyway, despite the Russ Abbot atmosphere, the menu sounds good and there's stacks of choice. We can also sit anywhere we like, which makes a change. Drinks and food ordered, we shut our eyes, bump into a free table and discuss Kev's rather good suggestions for the Walkers Crisps Do Us A Flavour competition. Wish I could share them, but there's fifty grand at stake.

Grub's up, and it's good. Kev's wrapped up, Grenvyle's burger-ed, and my croque monsieur (le snack) plus chips plus salad is most savoury. Back to the Walkers comp, I see there's already 20+ suggestions for "croque monsieur", and one for his ladyfriend, the "croque madame". Drat.

As we sat bathing in our post-lunch glow, you couldn't fail to notice the piped music. Scouting For Girls? Keane? Light classical? Nope, some awful freeform progressive jazz stuff, all scatty and bib-bobbidy. And once you became aware of it, the worse it got. Note to the Admiral's Head: please, please borrow Back To Black or Now 70. If you play it, they will come.

If it was a car -- Citroen CX.
If they were passing by -- Courtney Pine.