First question: what does oisi mean? Well, bash it into Google and you get ... the Opthalmic Imaging Systems homepage. But a further Internet trawl reveals that it means 'tasty', which is disappointingly un-exotic.

Second question: what's the difference between Chinese and Japanese food? About 30 per cent on the price is the (non-electronic) answer.

The two cultures have different ideas about what to do with the stuff on their plates. Graceful though their civilisation is, the Chinese love stirring chemicals into their grub, while the Japanese prefer a more subtle approach -- and given their average life expectancy is about a decade longer than the Chinese's, they could be forgiven for looking smug.

Oisi Master, which had been only open a few weeks when my friend and I dropped by, caters for both Chinese and Japanese food fans. It can be spotted from afar thanks to its lilac-coloured neon sign.

Inside, on the aubergine-coloured walls, abstract portraits hung over the diners in their green leather seats, who were murmuring enthusiastically as they delved into steaming bowls and plates while Japanese pop trilled from the sound system.

A waiter pointed us to a small, laminated table near the sushi bar at the front of the restaurant, and poured green tea.

While my friend accepted (she remarked quietly the first cup was lukewarm, but later servings seemed hotter), I declined as I steer clear of caffeine in the evening.

But I wasn't asked if I wanted an alternative -- curious, as the mark-up on drinks is often a hefty one. In general, the service was relaxed for a culture that -- to outsiders at least -- seems workaholic.

The menu included Chinese fare, but we weren't here for that. The sushi also went unordered -- I can't understand the appeal of raw fish.

We didn't see other diners opting for sushi either, the cheapest of which was £1.10, for a sweet egg. Most of it was £1.50-£1.80 a piece, but sea urchin topped the list at £3.80.

Browsing the appetite-whetting, but occasionally mis-spelled, menu we picked a mixed starter for two, followed by sirloin steak in Japanese soy sauce (£8.50) and a seafood hotpot (£9.50).

The starters -- nearly all in golden batter -- weren't quick to arrive, although we were pleased with them when they did. My friend was less impressed with the squid than I was, but we both praised the small spring rolls and king prawns, while finding the carrot and green pepper satisfyingly crispy rather than crunchy. The pork ribs, however, were downright ordinary, being rather gristly. When the waiter placed the hotpot before us on a gas stove, the dish was so large I nearly asked if he had got the order right, although it was clear all was well when the steak followed after a few minutes.The hotpot was enough for two, comprising several hulking great prawns (delivered raw, so we could watch them turn pink as the dish simmered), squid, tofu, pak choi, whole mushrooms (both English and oriental), carrots and a lump of an unidentifiable brown vegetable.

It also contained clusters of fine noodles as transparent as fibre-optic cable -- delicious, but we regretted having ordered plain sticky rice as well.

Despite sighing at seeing two processed seafood sticks (which cost about 10p in supermarkets) floating in the stew, I polished them off nonetheless.

The steak was pink without being bloody, and the thin slices were truly tender -- a far cry from the rubbery brisket one often battles with at Chinese buffets. It came with coarsely-chopped spiced onions, beansprouts and yet more carrot. There was no danger of us missing out on our vitamins here.

The restaurant might be overstating itself with its 'master' tag, but with the bill coming to £32.60, the meal was flavoursome, decent value and downright nutritious too. PAUL STAMMERS