Yum, Moshi Moshi in Brighton – quick run down from London straight after work, membership card in hand and all ready for a 50% discount… what could be better? Well, let me tell you how it really was.
We’d booked a table for three at 8.30. The manager, tousled and hassled, told us the couple before us was still finishing up. In fact, he came back 15 minutes later to rant that they were being deliberately obstructive, taking forever to finish their drinks just because they’d been told to leave. Told to leave? Irrespective, the table next to theirs was unoccupied, but in need of a wipe. We waited. We were eventually seated. That was when I noticed a very faint smell. Of wee. Maybe, we thought, it was something else. It was fairly faint.
We ordered. Quite a lot was unavailable (tuna, in a sushi restaurant). Limp, warm fish started turning up (the starter arrived after we’d started in on the sparse sashimi platter). The wine, a very decent Breaky Bottom, was excellent, but the Sapporo was tepid. The waiter’s IQ was tepid too, barely breaking double figures.
A table behind us came free, was quickly filled with four guys; the manager called across the loud and trendy music, “It’s OK, this corner used to smell of p*ss, but it doesn’t any more!” Next he was spotted munching food while he cleared away plates.
We tried one of the dishes off the conveyor to see if was any less awful than the special – warmer, limper, greasier. By this time the three of us had had enough. Bob and I decided we needed some decent grub, so we grudgingly paid (“Would you like to leave a tip?” “Nope.”) and headed out. As we passed the manager and two waiters lounging on the steps outside having fags, I couldn’t resist. “Still smells of **** mate.” Ended up at The Regency on Brighton sea front, where we had a delicious haddock and chips, twice. Should’ve gone there to begin with – and I would strongly advise, touch not Moshi Moshi in Brighton with a barge pole, The Regency fish shop is spotless, professionally run and perfectly served.