Breaking news from Southville: Chef and food writer Sam Leach, aka The Daydream Kitchen, is holding a supper club at his house on Saturday evening, cooking a three-course meal and asking for a donation of £10 to cover costs. Similar to last month’s Cloak & Dinner, the location of the venue will not be revealed until your booking has been confirmed.

This is more exciting news in Bristol’s foodie world, and a similar idea to other pop-up restaurants that have recently appeared across the world. A living room is certainly a more traditional pop-up dining location than Cloak & Dinner’s squat, marvellous as that was.

To make a reservation, email samjleach {AT} googlemail {DOT} com

What must those wealthy merchants (that included Edward Colston, whose crest is one of many on the front of the building) think of the latest incarnation of Quay Head House, that for a few days only has been transformed into a pop-up restaurant. As I have written before, by the time most people find out about it, it probably will have already have closed.

I sent an email early last week to the organisers of the restaurant, and got a reply saying that they could squeeze me and a friend in. But the venue was only announced yesterday. At 7.40pm tonight, we were told to make our way to the red door opposite the war memorial.

My foodie friend Emily and I made sure we arrived a bit early. Once inside, we were ushered to a smoking room, artwork lining the walls and a long red drape across the door, where a gin and tonic and vegan canapé soon appeared.

Before long, it was time to go upstairs, up a winding wooden staircase into a beautiful wood-panelled room, lit by candles on each table and a light in the corner so the musicians could see what they playing. Throughout our meal, we were entertained first by the Chair For Two Klezmer Ensemble with a Jewish/Middle Eastern vibe, and then by virtuoso guitarist Jamie Harrison.

The eclectic music in the corner was a perfect complement to our food. There were three dishes and the choice was what order to have them in, and what size. The wine was red or white. Our red came in a bottle with no label, but was as good as any house wine in a restaurant, if not better.

To start, we shared a mezze platter with the food squeezed on the plate: a pistachio and mint concoction, hummus, chick peas, aubergine mash, sliced parsnips. It was the best mezze I have ever eaten.

Then came the traditional Spanish dish fabada, pork and bean stew, served with chorizo in a sauce just oozing with flavour. If that wasn’t enough, for the third course we had wet rice with wonderfully succulent mussels, prawns and whitebait from Cornwall, also in a sauce packed with taste.

For desert, and to continue the Spanish theme, Emily and I each had a Seville blood orange and frangipan tart with crème fraiche, washed down with a coffee and four melt-in-your-mouth miniature chocolates.

About 40 people could fit into the room we were eating in, which had views across the centre to the Colston Tower. We may have been in the centre of Bristol, but it felt like we were somewhere very special indeed, eating some deceptively simple but very rustic and traditional food as part of a secret club.

We knew that Cloak and Dinner had been set up by Bristol-based chefs, waiters, bartenders, actors and creatives, “inspired by food and disappointed by the pretence and price-tag necessary for a great eating-out experience in Bristol”. But we didn’t know who was behind this movement, who was cooking our food, or how strictly legal this whole operation was. All we were asked as our meal came to a close was to leave what we thought our meal was worth in a small envelope.

A pop-restaurant like this may not appear in Bristol for some time, if ever again and we both felt very fortunate indeed to have been allowed through the door. Quay Head House is currently a squat, and on our way out, three heavy bolts had to be removed so we could exit back onto Colston Avenue, back to reality after an amazing evening of anarchic charm, never to be repeated.