Jamie's Italian, Covent Garden, London

I was in Central London on a hot day, walking around and just generally enjoying visiting the capital. I decided I needed a bite to eat, and being in Covent Garden area, there's a whole surfeit of options. I came across Jamie Oliver's Italian Kitchen and stopped by to scan the menu. Jamie's got his detractors, but I like his passion for food and his simple dishes with good ingredients. I like how he gets getting stuck in with both hands when cooking, with no messing around wit odd gadgets. His faux Cockney matiness along with his explanations to an unseen and unheard interviewer just off to the side of the camera were artifice. But they at least made him stand out from some of the more boring TV chefs in the 90's.

The menu reflected this attempt to be the every man. Words like 'great', 'tenner' and, I'm sure 'nosh' abounded in the columns of options. Simple line drawings broke up the text listing fresh ingredients and easy, breezy preparations. I went in. It seemed like a good idea. A bowl of pasta and a salad would give me some nutrients before I went to the pub for the third day straight.

Before I walked in, I had no idea this was a large chain that had taken off Britain. I assumed it was a lower budget version of his other offerings, with maybe one or two branches. I didn't know otherwise until I left and mentioned it to friends. But this is a big chain restaurant. There's a small patio area accessible via a set of sliding doors. Though in use, but not full, I wasn't offered a seat outside, and instead sent to sit against the wall of Jamie's books. Hundreds of copies of his recipe books adorned the shelves. I thought about taking one down to read but was worried I might splatter the pages with sauce, and have to buy a copy to lug back to Canada. My bag was heavy enough already.

There were a lot of white tiles on the rest of the walls, the parts visible behind the chalkboards advertising different specials - fish special, cocktail special and bruschetta special. One waiter served me tap water ('still or sparkling, sir?', 'Thames, please'), then disappeared for the rest of the service after taking my order. A different waiter brought the pasta, and a third brought the bruschetta. A fourth brought the bill and a fifth took my money. A sixth and seventh were hanging at the front desk. No-one came by to check if the food was okay. All the guys had groomed beards and tired back ponytails. They had posh accents and pressed trousers and shiny shoes. Like there was a special clone factory for them somewhere in Leicester Square.

The pasta I ordered was the Rigatoni Pomodoro. It promised a sweet tomato sauce with garlic, basil, hard cheese, mascarpone and herby breadcrumbs. I think Jamie must have run out of breadcrumbs. There was none in the sauce. The pasta was mostly a solid al dente... the first bite was underdone, but the rest just fine. The sauce was disappointing. I've done better with a can of tomatoes, an onion and a lump of butter. The basil was scattered on top, not flavouring the food. The creaminess of the cheese lost in the sauce. The sauce that hinted of rich ripe tomatoes, the way a casino hints of winning millions. You hope for it. You see how it might happen. But you don't get it. It just was not worth it the price (6.25 Pounds or $12 Canadian for a small portion), rather than being an abject failure. I expected more from Jamie.

The bruschetta was a different story. A spring vegetable creation, it piled curls of courgette (zucchini in Canada, but I'm in London, so it's courgette) on a minty, bashed pea and creamy cheese base. The idea of freshness and growing vitality came through in the dish, and met the promise of the chalkboard special description. There was a zest and a bite to the flavours. The texture of the peas offset the cloyingness of the cheese. The courgettes added some heft to the dish and gave up their flavours to a bright olive oil dressing. The bread base was a little thin, and a little small, but that's a quibble. If the pasta had been as good as this, I'd have no complaints.

But as it is, Jamie's Italian Kitchen is just another eatery. It's farming out a brand of food that's priced over its value, playing off on the celebrity name. Plus, I am not sure I can forgive being forced to listen to terrible 80's music while I dined.