I was completely in awe of Carlo. Spaghetti Junction, downstairs in the Sea Terminal, was my introduction to 'proper' dining out as a little fella. Fancy chequered tablecloths, those absurdly-massive pepper grinders, proper grated parmesan, and a beautifully unhinged chef/proprietor who made us feel so very welcome, as he sang and yelled his way through cooking our tea.