I heart Ping Pong! It’s been a while since I went out for a restaurant date with my wife, the former blonde… but since I’ve just resigned my job in the middle of the recession and will now be sitting around the house watching Top Gear on Dave and ‘networking’ on the internet, while she slaves away to pay the mortgage… she deserves a treat.

We head for the Bayswater branch through a bitterly cold night, not really knowing what to expect. Can a dim sum chain that’s sprouted so many branches hold a candle to the specialists of Chuen Cheng Ku in Chinatown or the rude-but-brilliant maestros of Royal China? Well, that’s not really what they’re trying to do. For a start, it’s half the price. For twos, the menu is accessible but exciting – exotic tastes, but set out so we can order ourselves without help. Thirdly, they are charm personified. Part of the mystique of many high end Dim Sum places is the blank stares that become downright threatening if you linger over your food – but it sure is nice to be greeted warmly and offered a drink and time to think.

Ordering is done by ticking boxes and we’re told to stick to three or four dishes each. So we go for ten – about right for greedy people. My wife’s absolute favourite is the Sichuan pork crackling starter – salt and fat – mmm! Steamed dumplings, spring rolls and Char sui buns are of a good standard, but the highlights are those dishes that we’ve not seen before – prawn and squid cakes, flaky roast pork puffs and superbly succulent ham hock in sesame oil. Delicious, and very more-ish. The only disappointment from a highly enjoyable feast is the wasabi and chocolate ice cream which could use a lot more wasabi.

Like many a gallant gentleman, I like to take my lady out, but then I sit there fidgeting while one part of my mind wrestles with the price. At Ping Pong, everything is transparently priced and cheap. I also love a place that serves prosecco, the Italian version of champagne. It’s just as lovely, and a quarter of the price. We knock it back like fury and our meal still tots up at under £60.

We finish our night with Flowering Dragon Eye teas that arrive as curled balls in the bottom of tall glasses and gradually unfurl to produce captivating, colourful flowers. Not unlike ourselves, swept in by a cold gale off the street and now stuffed full of the joys of good food and drink, flushed, smiling and in love with the place. We’ll be back… if I ever get a job.