I know I sound like a broken record, but it never ceases to amaze me what "trend slaves" Budapest restaurateurs are. Given the choice between simple good eats and some highfalutin' new concept, décor or foreign cuisine, most seem to immediately take the latter. One result is the bizarre and horrific fact that there are very few recommendable "white tablecloth" restaurants in this city serving traditional Hungarian fare after dark. Conveniently, the trend slaves usually go out of their way to advertise their slavishness, meaning you can spot them from a kilometer away. More unusual are those places that seem to be following a much-hyped new trend, but go out of their way to hide it - or don't even know they are following it.

The trend I am alluding to is what in the UK is known as the "gastropub," which as the name implies is a pub that serves fancy food. Interestingly, the term bubbled up in London around the same time Hungary was emerging from Communism (1991, to be exact). It is now a common fixture in those bits of old Blighty where the people are rich and fancy enough to only say things like "old Blighty" in deeply ironic terms, preferably over a pint of fancy beer (but probably wine) and plates of upmarket eats that would drive most traditional British publicans to drink. At its best, a gastropub can offer perfectly-cooked baby lamb chops and wilted spinach in the glorious confines of a historic British ale house; at its worst, a characterless watering hole with chicken wings at frog legs prices.

Like I said, I doubt that the proprietors of the Dunaparti Matróz Kocsma are consciously trying to follow the British gastropub model. From what I can tell, the kocsma - which by the way, does mean "pub" - is part of a chain focusing on Belgian-style beer and food, including the nearby Henri Belga Söröző and Pater Marcus Belga Apátsági Söröző és Étterem, as well as the neighboring Horgásztanya Vendéglő. Meanwhile, the look and name of the place - which translates roughly as "Danube Shore Sailors' Pub" - clearly suggests a nautical theme, and the menu features food from the countries through which the Danube flows, from Germany all the way to Romania. The "about us" page on the restaurant's spiffy website says the aim of the owners was to create a place where people could have something to eat or "where friends can meet and can chat with the girl behind the bar." It also notes that the pub specializes in rum-based cocktails, and is the only place in Hungary where you can get the "Delirium Tremens" brand of Belgian beer, which offers a shocking alcohol content of 9.5% ("recommended for sturdy sailors"). Finally, the menu takes the form of a cute little newspaper (above), and the guys in the kitchen wear blue-and-white striped tops, just like real sailors.

As for the food, all I can remember was how stunningly slick it was for a place mostly filled with people downing beers and shots. Having forgotten to take notes, or a proper camera able to shoot through the gloom, I can only offer a little taste of what I and my three other "shipmates" ate. Up top is a bowl of beer-spiked fruit soup (note: all the serving dishes were square); just above a very fancy plate of some sort of Asian-tasting turkey dish, and finally an "Austrian"-style bécsiszelet (below; what made it "Wiener Schnitzel" was the potato salad sitting under the szelet). Aside from the turkey thing - which as I recall also included some chicken, and was pretty yummy - everything was at best so-so, including the service.

In addition to the outlandish presentation, the prices also struck me as genuinely gastropubby, with the bécsiszelet going for Ft 2,990 (€11.80). Note that, at the equivalent of £9.45, this is probably what your average middle-manager in London would pay for a simple cutlet on a square plate in his expensively renovated local.

The reason I'm getting all upset is that, as with the UK gastropub phenomenon, clearly these guys are onto something. A nice, heaving little kocsma that served imaginative or at least high-quality food would be a fantastic addition to Budapest's dining scene. But some square plates containing unnecessarily ornamentation and expensive food isn't the answer. (Though it does explain why most of the people in the joint other than us were downing beers and shots rather than eating.)

So hats off to the captain and crew for intrepidly sailing off into the unknown, but they should tack closer to home port if they want to keep the passengers from jumping ship.