Canton Express

The meat hanging in the back is like a chicken's version of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. And you'll want to get in and out, chop chop. No frills here; the burst seats are gaffer–taped together, the table tops are wipe–clean, plates are plastic and lights shine so brightly in your face you may find yourself crumbling and confessing to a crime you didn't commit. Menus are sellotaped to the counter and large signs state that they 'DON'T SELL CHIPS'. The confusing thing is, the food is actually very nice. Do us a favour and ask them if they serve chips. We weren't too sure.

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