The only certainties in life are death and taxes, the saying goes. At least we don't pay window tax now, which one might think would be a good thing for the All Bar One chain, whose wine bars are invariably fronted by swathes of plate glass.

But in fact, window tax -- introduced in 1696 and abandoned in 1851 -- was never calculated on the area covered by glass. It was based on the number of windows a property had.

Anyway, although I can't remember who told me, the reason for so much glass (and perhaps the mirrors, too) in All Bar One outlets is supposedly because of the target market -- genteel women who feel more at ease in lighter, continental-style venues than in pubs.

That said, when I visited, at least half the customers were men. While I didn't scrutinise anybody's footwear, it seemed apparent their shoes were well-heeled.

As my friend and I took our seats on leather benches at a brass table, a group nearby were chattering over a bottle of wine in an ice-bucket, while others sipped Belgian beers from goblets.

We were beneath a loudspeaker, but the funk and soft rock were gentle enough not to disrupt the conversation.

What irritated was the leather seating. The interior designer had been thoughtful enough to put hooks on the tables to hang handbags (a feminine touch, again). But he or she had opted to fix the bench several inches too far from the table, so I was forced to shift to a stool to ease the discomfort.

Sipping a pint of Czech lager (at £2.80, one of the cheaper drinks), I decided against a main course such as 10oz rib-eye steak with fries (£11.95), or blackened salmon caesar salad (£7.95) and suggested the 'sharing plates' option instead. The list featured a dozen globe-trotting dishes, from houmous to chorizo and Waldorf salad, costing £4 for one, £11 for three and £20 for six.

We ordered Greek salad, warm risotto cakes, crab salad with Thai noodles, tiger prawn tempura, lamb koftas and aromatic duck quesadilla with plum sauce.

When the food was delivered in rectangular porcelain dishes, we spotted we had been given two quesadillas but no Greek salad. This was quickly rectified.

Tucking into the three koftas while my friend sampled the two risotto cakes, I found the lamb firm, with plenty of tzatziki. But they had been served with bruschetta rather than the pittas advertised.

The Greek salad was given a pan-European flavour by the novel addition of pesto sauce, while the fat green olives -- though not the succulent purple ones -- seemed to have been drizzled with chilli oil.

I had asked for the tempura expecting it to be less than a triumph. And I was right -- the meaty prawns were coated in what could only be described as chip-shop batter. Great for dipping in the sweet chilli sauce, though.

My friend praised the risotto cakes' mild cheesiness and was keen on the quesadillas, although I found the spices, particularly star anise, overpowered the duck.

The crab salad was perhaps the centrepiece. We couldn't taste the green tea in which the noodles had been supposedly dunked, but agreed it had an authentic Thai tang, and the tiny copper-coloured eggs served with it (of what species, we never found out) oozed tart fishy flavours.

After this fun, if arbitrary, assortment we were full enough to resist dessert. The menu was limited in any case to lemon cake (£3.50) or chocolate cheesecake (£3.95). My friend opted for a coffee, which although not very strong, was larger than expected for £1.75.

All Bar One isn't cheap, eating there is unlikely to be memorable and the continental slant includes a slightly Parisian attitude towards customer service.

But as chains in the Mitchells & Butlers group go (it also owns Harvester, Browns and O'Neill's), it's not a bad place to unwind.

PAUL STAMMERS