The Caldwell Tavern, Talke: Alan Cookman's restaurant review

THE Son & Heir invited me out to lunch to make amends for his zombie act at The Fitz last week.

I said he could hardly be blamed for being insensible due to jet lag, but accepted the offer of lunch anyway.

Herself was lying naked in a bath of lentils outside the Potteries Shopping Centre in Hanley at the time and therefore unable to join us.

At least I think it was lentils – it was some kind of Children In Need stunt at any rate. We were spared the grisly details.

The Son & Heir had obviously done his homework, consulting his network of cash-strapped mates about where to wine and dine the babe of the moment for a pittance.

For babe read aged parent, namely myself, having the £3.50 carvery meal at The Caldwell Tavern lavished upon him.

The venue is now part of the Crown Carveries chain (The Ashbank at Werrington is another) whose prices mean that business is buoyant irrespective of the quality of the fodder. As I patiently enquire of people who grumble about the cuisine in places like this: "What do you expect for £3.50?"

A big roadside inn on the crossroads at Talke, it is never likely to be confused with Le Manoir aux Quat' Saisons, but if cheap and cheerful is what you're after, look no further.

Given the warm and friendly welcome we received, it seemed a pity that things started to go wrong before we'd even sat down.

There was confusion over The Son & Heir's starter of chicken wings with a sweet chilli dip and salad garnish (£2.45) and he was instead served a mysterious basket of chicken wings with roast potatoes costing more than twice as much. I'd taken a chance on the gammon and mushroom skins (£2.95), only to be told that mushrooms were not available, and I was quite heavily overcharged for my glass of house wine.

And yet these matters were rectified promptly and pleasantly, and profuse apologies were accepted without a fuss.

The Son & Heir kept his basket of wings and roast potatoes – wings fine, roasties a bit on the concrete-coated side – and I settled for the prawn cocktail (£2.79).

This was billed as "peeled prawns coated in Marie Rose sauce, flavoured with brandy and pink peppercorns," which suggested something more daring than your run-of-the-mill prawn cocktail.

To be honest, the brandy and pink peppercorn flavouring rather passed me by, but the sauce was extremely easy on the palate and they hadn't skimped on the prawns.

And so to the carvery, where standing by for our delectation were joints of gammon and beef and a major roast turkey.

From where I was standing, the gammon looked divine and I eagerly waited for the carver to hack me off a hot, juicy wedge.

Instead she carefully cut two slices that were so thin the best of the flavour was lost before they hit the plate. The ham was still good, but I was left to ponder what might have been.

The beef was sliced much thicker, but it was over-cooked and quickly dried out, requiring a good soaking in gravy to moisten it up a bit.

According to The Son & Heir, the roast turkey breast was as good as it looked, although he agreed with me about the beef.

The Yorkshire puddings were identical clones, unlike the inflated husks-of-many-shapes offered when we last visited a carvery. These had risen a little, but they had not gone into orbit, and the taste and consistency was about right.

We had some perfectly acceptable new potatoes and proper roasties from a fresh batch. Veg-wise, I settled for a few peas, but my companion also had cauliflower cheese and carrots. Not a great meal, perhaps, but not a pricey one, either.

And a more seemly way to spend an afternoon than lying naked in a bath of lentils outside the Potteries Shopping Centre.

Stop press: delete lentils – it was mushy peas.