Sesame mayo eggs took the cultural scrambling theme and ran with it. Essentially a Japanese riff on oeufs mayonnaise, it brought two soft-boiled eggs, thickly cloaked in a nutty, snow-white emulsion and faintly dotted with chilli oil, but underdeveloped in both flavour and form. The same couldn’t be said of beef tataki: rosy sheafs of obliging, raw rump steak beside an effective activity centre of dips and intensifiers (sesame seeds, soy sauce, hot mustard). Nor a lively, deeply savoury tangle of spiced and vinegared celery, slow-braised in a style known as kinpara. But then came a tinned fish dish, a mound of tuna belly beside cabbage salad, that frankly, could only have been more redolent of a Whiskas pouch if there were a cat yowling at my ankles.