The Malt Shovel Inn, Eynsford

Lurking on Eynsford's main drag is The Malt Shovel. All faded paint and opaque windows, it has the look of an old man's boozer from the outside. That impression is only partially dispelled upon entry. The clientele is probably not quite as cosmopolitan as the one you can find at the WAG haven that is The Plough across the ford, to put it kindly. In fact, I haven't seen this many men sporting slightly dodgy moustaches since The Village People were at the height of their powers. Actually that sort of helps sum up a trip to The Malt Shovel - it's a bit like stepping pack into the late 80s. Even the old stickers for Access credit cards are still in the window. The decor is dark and heavy but not unpleasant. It is very unpretentious, with lots of copper kettles, chitntzy porcelain lamps and vermillion velvet booths. Meanwhile, the food is just about as weighty. The chips are so thick cut it's a wonder they found potatoes big enough, and encased in a shell that could double as low-grade armour. Portion sizes range from huge to enormous. The goat's cheese salad (�4.50) contains enough cheese to have kept a small goat busy for at least a week. And the hand-made maltburger (�7.95) is topped with enough melted cheese and bacon to fell a rhinoceros at 100 paces. It's all pretty tasty, but if you like your food low in fat, this is not the place for you. And then there's the service. Oh, the service. It started off well - attentive, polite, swift. But after a couple more encounters with the waiter, we started to wonder if he wasn't just a little bit, well you know, odd. He certainly had a great enthusiasm for comedic asides with the diners, if not a great talent for it. "The last time I put my hand in a lady's purse, there was a bear trap in it," he chortled. Mostly to himself, it has to be said. Then there were other slightly scarier comments: "Oh, don't worry about me," he said after shutting his leg painfully in a high chair, "I crushed my hand under a steel beam and destroyed 95% of the nerves. I don't feel pain like I used to," he added. Erm...ok. By the time he was telling us (unprompted) about his near-death encounter with a Great White, we were out of there.

Overall: �56 for three people and three courses each was good value, and the pub is pleasant. Recommended, but only if you enjoy the odd scare from the Norman Bates-esque service.

3 May 2010 16:59