DECOR * (gloomy) DRINK **** (decent range of beers, spirits and wines) PRICE ***** (you can’t be Spoons on price) ATMOSPHERE * (like a morgue) STAFF **** (friendly and efficient) FOOD * (cheap but nauseating)

IN THESE austerity-hit times, the promise of a dirt cheap pint and a hearty meal, all for under a tenner, is usually worth the accompanying risk of crippling food poisoning or third world levels of filth.

While a visit to a Wetherspoons pub usually requires you to adjust your expectations somewhat, I found mine lowered to subterranean levels when I popped into The Harvest Moon for lunch.

Dark and depressing, this boozer in Orpington High Street has all the ambiance of a death camp gas chamber, with its punters looking like extras from Shaun of the Dead.

Worried one of the downtrodden drinkers, slumped over their pints and shovelling greasy sausages and chips into their sullen mouths like it was their last meal, might force me into a suicide pact, I found a dark corner to hide in. It wasn’t hard to find one.

As always in Wetherspoons pubs there is an impressive choice of real ale on tap and my pint of Phoenix (£2.25) cheered my spirits a little.

Medium-bodied and spicy, this bold American pale ale was a light and refreshing tipple to enjoy during last week’s spell of warm weather.

It’s just a shame I was stuck in Goebbels’ torture dungeon while everyone else was overdosing on vitamin D.

Despite efforts to brighten the place up with colourful flags from around the world hanging from the ceiling, the dark wood panelling and dim lighting only accentuate the gloom.

It wasn’t long before my melancholic contemplations were interrupted by a courteous member of staff serving me my grub.

Arriving a mere five minutes after I’d ordered it, something tells me the chef is either gifted with superhuman powers or his best friend is a microwave.

Radiated to within an inch of its life, my Abbot steak and ale pie (£6.99) looked like the sort of geometrically shaped, colourless food of the future.

A square pie, a rectangular, flattened patch of mash and a generous portion of green garden peas all sat steaming on a long, angular plate. It was almost beautiful.

However, its artistic merits were soon undermined when I took a bite of the piping hot pie and discovered its pastry had the consistency of cardboard and the meat was so fatty and sinewy it was like chewing on Madonna’s gnarled old buttocks.

After studying the old fashioned and unimaginative menu, I wasn’t expecting gourmet, but what I received was only marginally better than a school dinner and just about passable as food.

Perhaps this pub’s only saving grace is its friendly and knowledgable bar staff.

Of course, nobody goes to one of these cheapo chain pubs expecting high class, but many Spoons do still offer some value for money.

However, in the case of The Harvest Moon, you definitely get what you pay for.

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