Gingerbread latte, I ask you! I mean, without wanting to sound like my dear old gran, God rest her soul, whatever next?

Easter Egg muffins perhaps, or grass paninis with rainwater tea for the spring? But no, in winter, it's gingerbread lattes all the way!

At least it made you think, was my conclusion, because the food certainly didn't. In fact, I thought it was rather clever that Coffee Republic covered so many culinary bases and remained so totally uninspiring in terms of food and decor.

REMIND ME WHICH ONE IT IS AGAIN?

You will have walked past Coffee Republic more times than you care to remember. It's on the corner of New Inn Hall Street and George Street in Oxford and was one of the coffee revolution's first pioneers, way before Starbucks, Caffe Nero and Costa started their successful tearoom take-over bid.

Anyway, having never tried it before, and fancying stepping out of my comfort zone, I gave it a go. Never step out of your comfort zone, is my only advice, and if you do, don't eat anything.

SO WHAT DID YOU HAVE?

Ignoring all my better instincts we ordered a variety of sandwiches and drinks - well it was lunchtime - and chose a table near the door (subconsciously, I suppose, so we could make a quick exit if needs be).

But with such a well stocked counter, there was no reason to go elsewhere. Coffee Republic has everything from Oreo cookies and full fat Coke for the lardies, to yoghurt and home-made smoothies for the weight watchers.

In between there were coffees, cakes, sandwiches, ice creams, pastries, herbal teas and anything else you could think of cramming down your gullet.

WHAT DID YOU THINK?

Sadly little we tried was memorable, except my phlegm sandwich. Sorry - it was actually advertised as a tuna and cheese melt, which sounds good on paper, but don't be fooled. This mozzarella was so far away from the moist shores of Italy it probably had Air Miles, and it was watery, cold and chewy with no taste except for something you'd find at the back of your throat.

The tuna was similarly nasty -which is quite difficult really, because a dash of lemon juice, salt and pepper and some good mayo and it's really quite hard to go wrong with tuna.

But at least this provoked a reaction because everything else was just bland - the tuna and cucumber baguette, the croissant and the ham and cheese wedge (again a very excessive title for a very normal sandwich).

The only beacon of light was my son's Bug Blaster smoothie, made on site, which was fresh and fruity.

Coffee Republic is like the Stepford Wives of the coffee house trade, I decided, as we made a run for it, £17.53 lighter of pocket, leaving most of our lunch behind.

Maybe I should have tried the gingerbread latte after all. At least it might have tasted of something.

VERDICT: Keep on walking THE BILL Ham/cheese wedge £2.95 Tuna baguette £3.50 Plain croissant £1.25 Bottle Coke £1.30 Bug Blaster £3.49 Tuna melt £2.99 Tall latte £2.05 TOTAL: £17.53