Horses for courses

The Lido is all go. Located on one of the busiest pedestrian corners in town, its lives in the groovy Racing Conference Building – built in 1959 to house the national horse racing office. This accounts for the horseshoe motifs on the balconies, although it’s the odd shape, lemon tiling, and wavy overhang that really catch the eye. On the pavement out front is a sun-trap row of beaten-up outdoor tables surrounded by green plastic chairs of the type bought from the Warehouse for twenty bucks.

So, the building is half a century old, and it’s really starting to show, especially inside the Lido. The steel joinery holding the floor-to-ceiling fishbowl windows together has seen better days, the sliding entrance door requiring considerable grunt to urge it along its grimy track. The interior saw its last spruce-up about four years ago, although thankfully the owners resisted the urge to go to town. It remains fittingly retro, down to the chips in both paint and plaster, and up to the *** blue ceiling. While not a fan of the square formica tables they’ve crow-barred in, I can’t say I mind being a sardine when the food is so swimmingly good.

And it is, as ever – or for the past eighteen years at least. In the early morning this workhorse sets off with fairly standard breakfasts before cantering into brunch/lunch/snacks at 11.30am. In the evenings, from 5.30pm, the dinner menu kicks in. Between them the menus cover the field – from pancakes to pasta, fish pie to venison burger, antipasto and salad – with lots of fresh herbs and a nod to the Med.

Last Sunday my friend chose the Italian ploughman’s ($17), a delectable Euro-brunch with its three cold cuts, provolone cheese, pepperdews and marinated vegetables, accompanied by ample ciabatta. Friend number two plumped for eggs benedict ($14), which arrived in fine form: generous slices of luscious ham off the bone underneath perfect eggs, sauced with a nicely piquant hollandaise. She rated them 10 out of 10.

My dish was haloumi, and plenty of it. Grilled to a satisfying squeak it was served with avocado, cucumber, and cannelini beans, tossed into a king-sized bed of baby spinach ($16). It was moreishly dressed with an oily infusion of macerated mint and slivers of spring onion, the dregs of which I dredged up with warm, soft triangles of pita bread. It was fresh, interesting, and satisfying.

The food was nigh-on faultless, and so was the service – despite being packed full of punters. The coffee was excellent, the bill utterly reasonable. Should you come of a weekend evening you’ll find live music, and there are cocktails and unusual wines by the glass.

An old mare she may be. But a more than safe bet, the Lido’s a winner.