Instead, he stood his ground with dignity, took a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiped off the spit, threw the handkerchief on the ground and left.

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Having dined on spit-roast suckling pig with apple sauce in the ground floor restaurant, he or she may go upstairs to the bar for a drink only to be leered at by two bulls' heads (displayed in matching glass cases by Mr Hirst), pickled and puckering in formaldehyde.

ECONOMIST: Art in London restaurants