I ate at a restaurant hidden in a “celebrity” PRISON run by latecomers…bright green panic buttons decorated the walls.

THERE can’t be many weirder places to eat venison carpaccio than a prison.

As I ate my thinly sliced ​​Bambi, I was surrounded by panic alarms, metal bars, and inmates.

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I enjoyed a three-course lunch at The Clink restaurant within category C HMP Brixton in south London in September.

Former inmates of the cell include Mick Jagger, the Kray Twins and reality TV star Stephen Bear.

Brixton, one of the UK’s oldest prisons, houses around 700 men, including 200 sex offenders.

Last year, Chief Inspector of Prisons Charlie Taylor said Brixton’s “tiny, cramped and dilapidated” cells were among the worst he had seen.

A week after my visit, Brixton was one of several prisons forced to release dozens of inmates early to ease extreme overcrowding.

In other words, it might seem like an odd place to go for a fancy dinner.

But The Clink is often ranked among the top 10 restaurants in London on TripAdvisor.

It won a Travelers’ Choice Award in 2022, placing it among the top 10% of restaurants in the world.

It’s certainly a restaurant like no other, as I discovered for myself one lunchtime.

The restaurant was created to help inmates earn restaurant degrees as they take their first steps toward life on the outside.

Inmates allowed contact with the public work as chefs and waiters – chatting openly with diners.

There are strict rules that diners must follow, which adds to the eerie charm of the place.

First, you can’t bring a phone, or anything other than your credit card and the clothes you’re wearing.

Skimpy clothing, hoodies, football jerseys and bright Christmas sweaters are all prohibited.

Luckily, my usual journalist uniform – a wrinkled, coffee-stained M&S shirt – was suitably drab.

After showing identification and going through airport-style security, I was taken with a group of guests to the former governor’s house.

Inside is the restaurant and kitchen, as well as The Clink’s bakery for prisoners learning baking and confectionery.

The dining room is as sleek and stylish as any other fancy restaurant, with air conditioning and music piped through the walls.

Stylish touches include leather chairs made by inmates at Category A HMP Frankland in Durham, nicknamed ‘Monster Mansion’.

On the walls are artworks and poems created by Brixton latecomers past and present.

Without a few subtle touches, I could have forgotten I was in a prison.

On the one hand, the windows are covered with bars and the roof is surrounded by barbed wire.

On the walls are green panic alarms that will send prison guards running if you slam them.

A prison source told The Sun that a naughty child was stared at by officers out of breath after setting off an alarm for a laugh.

The cutlery is entirely plastic, the furniture is bolted to the floor and no alcohol is served.

Diners are warned not to ask their waiters what’s in store for them, as the prisoners are working hard to turn their lives around.

But some visitors can’t help themselves – and one waiter, since released, was famous for regaling them with his past antics.

An insider said a customer was left unwelcome after asking her server for her phone number.

For the vast majority who behave well, the restaurant is a pleasant place to spend a few hours.

I was shown to my table by a front desk employee, who then handed me over to his fellow server.

The prisoners are very talkative and instantly growl at the reporter in their midst.

It turns out that The Sun is the newspaper of choice for many Brixton inmates.

They served a delicious meal consisting of venison carpaccio with dukkah, roasted pollock with fries and blackcurrant flambé meringue.

I only ordered the chips after much cajoling from my server, who turned out to be absolutely right about how delicious they were.

A reporter without a phone or alcohol is a fish out of water, but my elderflower spritz and cappuccino went down very easily.

The quality of the food rivals that of many expensive establishments outside, and the servers would be a credit to any restaurant.

But I heard a group of Chinese tourists nearby telling a big lag that their flank steak was too salty.

People bolder than me – but my own rave review is completely genuine.

Prisoners I spoke with said they love working in the restaurant – and not just because of the training they receive.

Charlie Taylor’s report reveals that most prisoners at Brixton have far too little to do.

Languishing all day in a cramped cell can seriously harm inmates’ mental health, hampering their efforts to get on with life.

Working at The Clink gets prisoners out of their cells and gives them a few hours of normalcy, from getting ready in the morning to washing up after dinner.

They spoke with pride about their work and beamed as they talked about recipes, ingredients and household chores.

Even I found it extremely calming to spend lunch away from the hubbub of the outside world, by which I mean my editors.

But then I had the luxury of leaving afterwards – whereas prisoners must return to the harsh reality of their cell.

It’s a lovely restaurant – but the celebration is inevitably overshadowed by sadness.

As we exchanged pleasantries, one of the inmates told me right off the bat that he was “struggling to make the best of a bad situation.”

Savoring MasterChef-style delights in such a bleak setting might seem a bit jarring.

But the restaurant is there to help prisoners turn their lives around, not just as a dodgy source of income like so many London bars.

Training staff provide special support to the many prisoners suffering from mental health problems, learning disabilities or neuro-diverse needs such as autism.

Last year, The Clink trained 830 prisoners at Brixton and HMP Styal, a prison for women and young offenders in Cheshire.

A total of 550 of them graduated and more than half of them found jobs after their release.

It is estimated that nearly nine in ten qualified graduates of The Clink have not reoffended.

This makes it a hugely successful prisoner rehabilitation program at a time when these are tragically rare in Britain.

Former Brixton inmate Nathaniel Mortley found his calling at the Clink.

Mortley, a south London resident, was jailed in 2019 after being stabbed aged 16.

But he now serves Caribbean classics with a sophisticated twist at the Greyhound pub in Peckham, where he has his permanent home.

The Clink might seem like a quirky choice for a first date or anniversary meal – but it’s even better for leaving an impression.

I regretted my own decision to come alone, but I am often told that having lunch with me is an exercise in isolation.

If you want to support the restaurant but need to travel to Brixton or Cheshire, you can purchase a luxury hamper online.

The baskets include shortbread, truffles, parmesan crackers and sour cherry jam, all made by the inmates.

My verdict on my excellent meal behind bars? It’s not porridge.