The bizarre name is what intrigued me to this Tapas/Wine bar but I was slightly disappointed that the name was not reflected in the decor nor the food of this tiny joint.
I pictured something rugged, rough and grungy - it was named Petrol after all - perhaps it would be a converted garage - maybe it would have a hanging car or tires and car parts stuck to walls. I could not be further off.
We walked into a small tapas restaurant with couches against a wall and dainty chairs. The menu, which I had previously perused online earlier that day, was not only different to what I remembered, but was different from the menu my dining companion next to me was reading.
Together we talked through our options and decided on five dishes. I was quite taken by the Moroccan meatballs I had read about online and though they were no longer on the (printed) menu, the waitress checked with the kitchen and they were happy to oblige.
The food came out relatively quickly and the flavours were pleasant. However, though the bill racked up nicely, we were still left hungry at the conclusion of our meal.