The Bavarian mini-chain Albert’s Schloss has finally reached London, where it has opened a 600-cover pleasure palace. The very thought will probably shake earnest foodie readers to their core. Albert’s Schloss, you see, is all about fun: noisy, determined, oom-pah-pah fun. It is also about wall-to-wall schnitzel, strudel and currywurst. Eat bacon kroissant royale from 9am and schweinshaxe on a Sunday. There’s a live house band from 4-7pm every night, followed by a nightly “Kunst Cabaret” with singalong piano, dancing ladies, DJs and, of course, more oom-pah-pah. So much endless oom-pah-pah, in fact, that never will one’s oom be so triumphantly pah-pahed. No tickets required and, says the website, everyone welcome. “No thank you, Mr Schloss,” you might well be thinking while sliding under the bed. “Please keep your Weimar Republic-themed booze stampede away from me. It sounds noisy and prone to spillages.” Even so, most people I’ve met who have visited one of the other Albert’s Schlosses in Manchester, Liverpool and Birmingham have fond, albeit woozy memories of late nights and perhaps a little too much Erdinger Weissbier, Stiegl-Goldbräu or Früli beer. They talk of booze, spätzle and fried goods covered in melted Alpine cheese, taken at long benches while sitting next to strangers who only recently became best mates. Nobody ever woke up and thanked God that they’d discovered the rhubarb and custard sour or the quietly lethal and bright blue show bunny, because both of these drinks require you to line your stomach first, perhaps with one of Albert’s Schloss’s giant pretzels with sweet mustard and pickles. The jalapeño pretzel is the best: a hunk of warm, spicy carbs with a variety of dippy things that’s hard not to love. And here’s the thing: the food at Albert’s Schloss is really much, much better than it needs to be, especially this close to Leicester Square. I popped in for a weekday lunch at 1pm and stayed for three hours, dining in a cosy, magnificently camp, fake Bavarian cable car. At some time during dessert – a very good, stacked chocolate cheesecake with raspberry coulis, incidentally – a man in a singlet climbed up on stage, said, “2,2,2”, into a mic and played Mustang Sally. It was 4pm on a Thursday, and the cabaret had opened. However, it’s the “everyone welcome”, “endlessly open” and “usually something happening” that’s the special sauce at Albert’s Schloss. Isn’t that music to the ears of anyone planning a small group trip to London? No booking required, no credit card deposit, no dress code, no time slot. London is difficult for the outsider: expensive, exclusive and impenetrable. Everything is happening everywhere, apparently – but it’s just not for the likes of you … well, unless you like waxworks. Building an Albert’s Schloss just off Leicester Square, where a tourist cannot help but trip over it, is a stroke of genius. Bring them your hopeless, bedraggled hen nights, your travelling college football teams and everyone else hoping to enjoy “swinging London” and grimly considering a Shakespearean hip-hop walking tour. Albert’s Schloss will save these people from a night of queueing for M&M World. It is a deeply silly point of refuge, an oasis, a cold pint of Pilsner Urquell and a woman in a sparkly bra singing a Liza Minnelli medley. It’s not cool, it’s not going to appear in any lofty, food scene guidebooks, but it’s clean, welcoming, and has friendly staff and nonstop giant pretzels. I had more fun here than I’ve had at many a Michelin-starred restaurant. And that’s quite wunderbar. Albert’s Schloss 20-24 Shaftesbury Avenue, London W1, 020-8165 0000. Open Mon-Sat 9am-2am, Sun 9am-10.30pm. From about £25 a head, plus drinks and service