How to complain about a bad meal

Restaurant critiques - much like the reviewers who write them - come in all shapes, sizes and temperaments, ranging from the positively glowing to the downright pernickety and even scathing. Often, the worse the food, the funnier the review as the writer revels in piercing culinary pretentions.

However, complaining in person is another matter entirely and, like many diners, food writers usually prefer not to confront the manager for all but the most egregious of offences; instead, silently vowing never to return.

People are often too timid to confront, but, equally, dining etiquette offers few avenues for complaints. Some people may choose not to say anything for fear that, in a fit of pique, the chef might do something unmentionable to their dinner. Of course, even a timid customer might feel the restaurant's behaviour is so outrageous that complaining is the only option.

On one such occasion, I wanted to do a Gordon Ramsay when, for a third time, my lamb main course was served rare, rather than medium as I had requested. I kept my head, but only because it was meant to be a romantic dinner, not a review. I did have a chat with the manager, but was told that the chef (from a two-star Michelin restaurant) was unwilling to cook the lamb to my satisfaction and would I prefer to have the veal instead. Seriously?

Of course, letting the chef decide on the dishes can work in your favour; the logic being that by giving them some creative freedom you will see them at their best. On one occasion when I did defer to the chef, the friendly but clueless server looked at us like we were stupid when we asked what the soup was. She said, confidently: "Soup".

Contemporary Siberian - that's how my dinner companion described our degustation menu of dishes that mostly tasted like they had been dragged through a salt mine. I regret not saying anything, as there were two dishes we left largely uneaten. I was surprised that no one asked about them. Perhaps they were afraid of what I would say.