In that great bastion of tradition, the House of Commons, MPs man a welter of committees that investigate, examine and oversee almost every aspect of the UK’s economy and society. And many Members take a particularly keen interest in one such committee, because its work is absolutely essential to the smooth operation of Britain’s ancient democracy: the Commons administration committee carries the weighty responsibility of overseeing the chamber’s Refreshments Department.

This is a busy department, for members and their staff are a hungry lot. Running four cafeterias, five dining rooms and six bars in Westminster Palace alone, the department serves more than a million meals annually to 8,000-odd passholders and their guests. Like many Whitehall departments and big private companies, the House of Commons subsidises meals for its staff – to the tune of £4.8m in 2006-7 – so its menus offer excellent value for money, providing beleaguered MPs with a ready way to keep their expenses bills down.

Those under most pressure over expenses might find their way to the Terrace Cafeteria, one of the department’s cheapest outlets and also the most accessible – in more than one sense. Unlike, say, the Press Cafeteria or the Members’ Tea Room, the Terrace Café – also known as the Strangers Cafeteria – is open to all Members, Parliamentary staff and their guests; it is also fairly easy to find in the labyrinthine building, sitting by the Thames at ground level.

Those who do persuade an MP, journalist or Commons staffer to invite them in for lunch will find themselves at a self-service food bar, manned by cheerful staff and typically loaded with three main course options and a range of vegetables. First, stop for the soup, charged at 60p; or step aside and pile a plate with salad for £1.25: on our visit the salads were refreshing, interesting and innovative, including one comprising pineapple, adamame bean and radishes, and one with celery, savoy cabbage and mustard.

Vegetarians might find their main course option a little predictable – as at the vast majority of traditional weddings, I was offered mushrooms with garlic in puff pastry – but the cooking is good: the mushrooms were firm and juicy, and the pastry light and well puffed. “Not garlicky enough,” commented one of our number. “I want to be able to kill an MP at 15 paces.” But she pronounced herself happy with the potato wedges and the Chantenay baby carrots, though the latter were a little sunburnt by the heating lamps. Meanwhile, a spaghetti marinara was decreed “palatable, with a nice, creamy sauce – but there’s more spaghetti than marinara”.

With two courses down, we were slowing down now – and we weren’t done yet: amazing what a fiver can buy you in SW1. Finally, we were on to the Terrace cafe’s crowning glory: its puddings. Remember now: this is an eating house where the food is designed for MPs’ tastes, and the menus must conform to hundreds of years of ritual and precedent. In that context, the puds I’ve enjoyed on my two visits should be no surprise: an apple crumble and a bread & butter pudding – the latter made, of course, with white sliced – served with generous dollops of custard. English tradition at its best.

As we staggered back to work, bellies and wallets both satisfyingly full, a thought occurred: Britain’s parliamentarians have well proved their prowess at running a café, while the state of the economy is some measure of their success in running the country. Perhaps they should give up on all this politics stuff, and instead launch a nice little restaurant somewhere?

Matt Ross