Once, in The Book Club, an errant ping pong ball flew away from the table and down a friend's cleavage. This however, was a one off, as The Book Club generally knows how to take care of its customers. The space is light and airy in the day, its food is appetising, an Anglicised twist on southern American snacks and its cocktail list is nicely executed. It morphs from freelancer-attracting daytime space to a late-night venue with a range of talks, club nights and workshops. And then there's that ping pong table.