Blindsided by mock reproach.

"And I bet you were going to try to sneak out without even saying hi," accuses the chef whose recent decision to resign from Eat Out magazine's restaurant of the year, Rust en Vrede, in the picturesque winelands for a view of the Gautrain station against a faux Tuscan backdrop, has set industry tongues wagging.

So busted is the Bandit that he almost chokes on the crumbs of a jolly good, freshly baked scone.

Ignoring the splutters, Higgs quickly lays out his plans. A slightly more intimate spin on to the stark, grey, white, steel feel. Breakfast possibilities slightly restricted. Group policy is that a minimum of 128 items appear on its breakfast buffets worldwide. So he's focusing on accurate execution and presentation. And making sure that guests feel valued, a cornerstone of the success of the great hotels, yet a notion increasingly alien to the operators of modern hotels.

The real changes, he says enthusiastically, come on August 18, when his new menus are launched.

Better be in disguise, the Bandit thinks.

And so after an almost 10-day absence from the Distraction, the only vexatious aspect of his recent international foray, the Bandit finally gets to dine, alone, with the most beautiful Distraction.

Monday evening and Pomodoro, in Morningside shopping centre, Sandton, is ticking over nicely, mostly on early week safe date tables of two.

But it's a deceptive pace for the kitchen, especially the Monday night B-brigade.

Just not enough urgency in the flow of orders to take the team up that essential notch.

The mussels are fresh. The saffron cream sauce is a potential winner. Neither is hot. Neither is seasoned. Two slices of stale white bread.

The salad Pomodoro is dauntingly large, quantity apparently a trade-off with hamfistedness. The salad, in which one would expect tomatoes to hog the limelight, has been upstaged by lettuce drenched in pesto and then tossed with far too much parmesan. Even the Parma ham is rendered tasteless by the dressing. Soggy croutons.

The Bandit's saltimbocca - pan-fried scallops of veal topped with Parma ham - is served with an excellent marsala sauce. The veal, however, is tough, sinewy and overcooked, and the potato wedges have been fried in oil that has been overheated.

Why rosemary is lounging artfully (doing sweet nothing) against the potatoes served with a dish supposedly seasoned with sage will remain a mystery.

The Distraction's pan-fried chicken breast stuffed with mascarpone, and served with a truffle sauce, once again reflects a lack of focus. The breast is overcooked to the point of being grainy and the sauce is unseasoned.

The Sicilian style lemon tart hits the mark; the citrus zing triggering an almost audible, most resounding and certainly satisfying sour "nyinnng" that starts behind the molars and then rises upwards into the Eustachian tubes and then the ears.

The Distraction is a picture nibbling gracefully at the almond biscotti dunked in Tuscan dessert wine of her Vin Santo e Cantucci.

The Score:

Mussels: ***

Salad: **

Saltimbocca **

Chicken: ***

Damage: Time to tighten the screws on a Monday