Spinningfields seems to change by the day; I hope this place does too.
We went with a large group of friends and were asked to hurry up with our order as it would take a long time for the kitchen to cook 15 meals. My calamari arrived with one browned lemon wedge and no sauce, salsa, dip or in fact anything to complement the visibly overcooked in old oil sad looking rings crudely pilled in front of me. My yardstick for an Italian menu, the carbonara, arrived drowned and floating in oil and was almost cold following the 5 minute wait to have black pepper added from a poundland grinder, by one waiter then the parmesan, direct from a supermarket's rounded tub, added by another. The fact the temperature of the pasta was dropping as I grimaced through it made the all ways difficult decision to leave a plate of food - no matter how foul, unfinished all the easier.
The highlight of the meal, from a restaurant perspective, was the powerful hand dryers in the men's room.
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