The Wal*Mart of restaurants. This was not my choice, but my wife said she liked the one she went to in London many, many years ago. Lots of choices but nothing looked appealing. Maybe the dessert. Had the greasy roesti and bratwurst and 30 minutes later I did not feel so well. A giant, crazy cafeteria style mess. What is the purpose of the cook wearing gloves for food prep and then taking your card and plugging away on the register?