Restaurant review, Donostia, London.

As holidaymakers know, Donostia is the Basque name for San Sebastian, the lovely, sun-drenched municipality on the north coast of Spain that's capital of the Basque country. Tourists spill into it every year to, um, bask in the Bay of Biscay, to drink txakoli and nibble pungent snacks in the tiny bars of the Parte Vieja (or 'Old Part of Town') or sample the classier cuisine of the Michelin-starred Arzak restaurant.

It's the former eating experience that the owners of Donostia are keen to promote in this small but lively addition to the eateries of London's groovy Seymour Place. There's a no-frills, canteen look about the place: a long white train carriage of a room, minimally designed with a stark rectangle of untreated wood as a nod to rustic authenticity.

Diners can perch on stools to eat at the counter area which lines the kitchen, or sit at tables that hug the wall. It's a bit cramped and noisy, but you can forgive that. Less forgiveable is the fact that the tables are slightly too high and too wide, so that dinner companions have to lean across the table and shout at each other. "It means that women have to rest their bosoms on the table," said my friend Julia. "It makes it sort of mandatory."

There were, in fact, few women in when we got there at 9.20pm. The place was packed with macho-looking gents wearing loafers and no socks, sitting up straight at the counter. From where we were seated, we had a ringside view of hips and thighs. It's quite possible they were Spanish. Although the inhabitants of San Sebastian call themselves 'Donostiarras' (tiaras, indeed), it's a macho kinda city. On San Sebastian Day, most of the male population marches around town dressed as cooks and soldiers, before feasting in sociedades gastronomicas, or gourmet clubs which, until recently, excluded women.

Happily, a lady called Melody, one of the co-owners, was around to introduce us to the wonders of Basque food and drink. She urged us to try Agerre Txakoli, a light Basque prosecco, poured from a great height into a beaker and drunk while still frothing. It seemed to me tasteless and pointless, like drinking Alka-Seltzer with no prospect of curing a headache. A picoteo (tiny plate) of chorizo, flattened and cross-hatched until miraculously soft, and served with oil and watercress, was better. Of the five pintxos (snacks), the octopus in Basque marinade stood out for its bonsai mosaic of chives and red pepper dusted with paprika, and served in crusty bread saturated with olive oil. Tempura prawns interspersed teeny slices of Bayonne ham between prawn and batter and soothed the resulting saltiness with cubes of mango.

Read more at http://www.independent.co.uk