Apologies for what may seem a statement of the offensively bleedin' obvious, but not for a nanosecond before now have I ever been tempted to cast a vote for the Conservative party. Doubtless the urge will fade, but at this moment the desire to remove Gordon Brown from office is such that the unthinkable must be thought.

The cause of this potential ballot box volte-face is the answer the prime minister gave, in a newspaper questionnaire, to a certain Bill Hooper's request that he recommend somewhere to "take my girlfriend for a tasty but economical supper". "There's a great Chinese restaurant in Kirkcaldy," replied the PM, "called Maxin."

In his defence, Gordon might point out that he could not have foreseen how, noting this, the editor of this magazine would dispatch her restaurant critic to Fife to investigate. Yet isn't that one of the key things about being PM? You don't go blabbering the first thing that comes into your head without a care for the consequences. That's how wars start and currency markets are brought to their knees.

From west London to Fife is no quick hop, and as we drew up outside New Maxin, to give the place its correct title, the milometer gauge clicked gratifyingly to 500. Now, while you might agree with two other fabled sons of Fife, the Proclaimers, that you would walk 500 miles (and you would walk 500 more) just to be the man who walked a thoooosand miles to fall down at her door, would you drive 500 miles for a meal such as the one we were about to receive without being truly grateful?

No, you would not. You would not drive 500 metres for such a meal, but if you did so on your prime minister's advice, your attitude to domestic politics would change. "Old boy," said my cousin, Nick, a stoic but increasingly battle-scarred veteran of long car journeys to restaurants, "I've never had much time for David Cameron, but if the duck's anything like these spare ribs ..."

It had not been an encouraging start. To walk into a functionally decorated Cantonese restaurant, with little but the odd desultory paper dragon to lift the soul, and hear people ordering chicken curry and chips, isn't reassuring. When two founder members of the Rab C Nesbitt Fan Club then arrived, and loudly ordered not only curry and chips but quadruple vodkas, we thought we were in line for a sound and well-deserved hiding for being snooty, metropolitan ponces. But soon enough they settled down, and were whispering with the rest of us.

Szechuan soup turned out to be a bowl of tepid washing-up water with chilli oil dribbled on top and a few spring onions lurking beneath, while the hot and sour soup was bland and sweet. Those spare ribs came in a globulous Peking sauce, and the duck's lack of flavour was not disguised by an overwhelming hoisin sauce we doubted would be stocked by any of the mainstream oriental supermarkets.

The main courses were better. King prawns had been well thawed out and accurately wok-fried to retain that gratifyingly springy texture, and came with straw mushrooms. Szechuan-style spicy chicken had a synthetic chilli flavour but came with nice, crunchy shredded carrot. And a medley of bean curd and minced pork in a piquant sauce tasted vaguely authentic. Lemon sorbet, traditionally presented in the scooped-out lemon, seemed a decent brand, but toffee apples were inedible, and had to be smuggled out in a napkin.

"A couple of things," was our very sweet waitress's gnomic reply when asked after the PM's favourite dishes. "But he's very busy now, and hasn't been in for quite a while." Perhaps that explains Gordon's unwonted inaccuracy about the name. Perhaps he's Old Maxin at heart, rather than New Maxin - as so often with him, it's hard to be sure - and it's residual loyalty that explains his affection for this place. But if he genuinely regards this as a great Chinese restaurant, you do not want his fingers anywhere near the levers of government, let alone the nuclear launch codes.

Rating: 4.5/10

Telephone: 01592 263406.

Address: 3-5 High Street, Kirkcaldy, Fife.

Open: All week, 5-11.30pm (business lunches, Mon-Sat, noon-2pm).

Price: Large meal for two, with beer or wine, £40-50. Lunchtime set menu, £6.50 for three courses. Various 'banquets', £16-£33 a head.