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Does Kate Moss have an eating disorder? I don't mean anorexia or bulimia, but a strange predilection for fattening, unhealthy food. These days, if she's not stuffing her face with cream cakes in the tearoom at Claridge's, she's tucking in to a full English at some out-of-the-way greasy spoon. On present form, the only Coke she's likely to be consuming is the full-fat variety.

Her latest discovery is the Troy Café in, of all places, Kentish Town. Could there be a less glamorous part of town than this non-descript postcode in North London? Sandwiched between Highgate and Camden Town, it can't decide whether it's a trendy urban ghetto or an affluent suburban oasis. Like Shepherd's Bush, it's one of those areas that seems to have been left behind by the rising tide of house prices and gentrification. As I stepped out of the tube, I was greeted by a homeless man clutching a can of Carlsberg Special Brew, but he might as well have been holding up a sign saying, "Welcome to Kentish Town."

The Troy Café is situated opposite an Iceland loading bay, about 25 yards from MacDonald's. On the day I visited there was building work going on just up the street and on my right as I walked in were a group of Irishmen enjoying what appeared to be an extended tea break. They were all smoking heavily and the Troy Café is one of those places that you can't imagine ever succumbing to the smoking ban. Not that it was nicotine-stained. On the contrary, it was remarkably clean for such an establishment--not so much a greasy spoon as a shiny one. But that may be because it has only been open for eight months.

In spite of the fact that there's a picture of a wooden horse on the menu, the name of this establishment offers no clue to its cuisine. The owner, Còmert Dunya, is Turkish and he admitted to me that he decided to call his restaurant Troy after seeing the 2004 film starring Brad Pitt. Not surprisingly, this theme doesn't stretch to the interior which looks as though it has been tricked out by the greasy spoon equivalent of IKEA. Cheap, wooden furniture sits on a brown, Formica floor, with the only decoration being some brightly-coloured, tropical prints on the wall.

One glance at the menu revealed why the Troy Café appeals to the new, post-rehab Kate Moss. Of the 123 dishes available, no less than 50 contained eggs and a further 48 were accompanied by chips. I can't claim to have anything like the supermodel's hearty appetite, so I opted for a bacon and egg baguette and a glass of Perrier. The baguette was no longer crusty, suggesting it had been stored overnight in the fridge, but I had no complaints about what was inside. I finished with a cup of coffee and that, too, was perfectly fine. As highstreet cafés go, it was right up there with Jenny's, the Pizza Express of the greasy spoon world.

Is the Troy Café the best example of its type in this part of London? Oddly enough, I'm in a good position to answer that question because I went to William Ellis, a comprehensive located less than a mile away. As a 17-year-old schoolboy, I used to favour San Siro, an Italian-owned greasy spoon on Highgate Road, with occasional forays to the Spaghetti House opposite the Tufnell Park underground station. The difficulty with the latter venue was its dangerous proximity to Acland Burghley, a rival comprehensive that's since become famous as the alma mater of Miss Dynamite. According to the owner of the Troy Café, she's the only other celebrity to have set foot in his restaurant.

I have to say, the Troy Café stacks up quite well against those two places. The signature dish at San Siro was spaghetti bolognaise and chips and while such a concoction might appeal to Kate--"Greasy Spoon"--Moss, it's a little too fattening for me.