Every so often you come across a quaint and unusual place that turns out to be a restaurant. What I mean by that is that more often than not they turn out to be something else completely. Mohsen qualifies on both scores. From the outside, an apparent cross between a run-down village hall and a closing down outpost of a particularly impoverished charity, go inside and all is changed. Pass expeditiously through the outer room in to the garden and enter the outer sanctum as it were, an ailing garden shelter-like affair, richly decorated with exotic rugs, hanging and greenery, with some pretty dodgy furniture mainly of the garden variety. Background musak is provided by some hardworking canaries who as yet have a long way to go before they achieve anything like harmony. But there's nothing even mildly disturbing or sinister about it all, in fact if you take a firm grip it's pretty good fun.

We are not talking haut cuisine here, not by a long chalk, but it is homely, well-prepared and authentic feeling cuisine of the country. It was suggested recently that this was the haunt of formerly well-to-do Iranians who had fled their country, possibly never to return, and come regularly to Mohsen for some familiar company and the food of their country. Prices are unbelievably good value, strengthening the view that this is a quasi-charitable outfit, but nonetheless one of integrity and simple quality. Go there, just for the experience.