Buckingham Arms, Westminster

Why on earth would you advertise Sunday roasts and not be open on a Sunday?

I do not expect my life to be easy. I certainly do not make it easy for myself. But when you turn up to a pub that advertises Sunday roasts, talks about Easter Sunday plans and has nothing on the website saying that it is not open on a Sunday, you kind of expect that it will be open – looking at you Adam & Eve in Westminster.  I normally call ahead and book too.

Thankfully, it being the centre of London – nay, the centre of the Universe (Paris?  Yeah right), there was a different pub a few doors down.

So totally unplanned, we found ourselves at the Buckingham Arms instead. No expectations, no preconceptions – just a pub with a Chinese family of 3 next to us sharing one roast dinner between them – I admired their frugality. Though I’m sure Nigel Farage promised that Brexit would increase sales from tourism.

You will be delighted to know that I will also be spending more money in public houses, and therefore also providing you with more regular roast reviews. Yes I have a job. At least until they discover this blog and the enclosed various excuses to sack me.

So onto the main course. The options were chicken for £13.00 and beef for £16.00. The Buckingham Arms itself was just an ordinary pub pub. Nothing at all stood out about it – one imagines that it is a popular place to have a beer on a weekday.

Though it did have some funky bronze shiny effect on the bathroom tiles. Bathroom tiles could become a regular feature.

The roast dinner took around 15 minutes to arrive and was well-presented.  Service was at the bar, and was perfunctory.

Firstly I tackled the red cabbage. Quite dark, and decently cooked. I still am not keen on red cabbage but it wasn’t off-putting.

Then came a gaggle of small carrots, very small in fact. Perfectly edible, with a little bit of a crunch, especially on the larger ones.

Spring greens were also provided, and were excellent. A vegetable that I have only recently discovered, and a rare one on a roast dinner plate, this was very enjoyable.

Not very funny this review is it? I seem to have lost my sense of humour. I blame Brexit.

Three roast potatoes were provided and were very, very good. Soft in the inside, quite crispy on the outside – one certainly approved.

The Yorkshire pudding wasn’t quite so good. Over-cooked and a touch rubbery. At least it was homemade.

Half a chicken was provided, and it was plump, nicely cooked – still on the juicy side, and flavoursome too. Definitely a good piece of chicken.  One of my accomplices had the beef and was very happy with hers – 3, maybe 4 slices, only a hint of pink, but I am told very tasty.

Oh, did you hear about the magic tractor? It went down the road and turned into a field.

The gravy was slightly more miss than hit. Thin, watery – yet complimentary to the dinner. But I’m northern. And I like it thick. There was virtually nothing on the plate but more was eventually coming upon request, albeit I had finished over half of my dinner by then.  And the cute Venezuelan refugee was very confused by our request for horse radish.  I can just imagine her thinking “horse what?”.

Still not very funny this review is it?

This was a solidly decent roast dinner. Some good parts, some average parts. A bit like my review, albeit I don’t really have any good parts. Unless you like my photography – but lets be honest, I am more likely to become a model than a photographer.  Edit – forgot to give it a score.  This is my worst review ever.  I am hating every minute of writing this.  7.40 out of 10.

We resisted the temptation of a sausage platter for dessert (listed as a starter – it was very much an ordinary pub – like this is a very ordinary review).

I’m just going to give up and post this turd of a review. Next time I’ll smoke some crystal meth to get me into the mood – one of the many sacrifices of the first week in a new job. Or maybe I will just post photographs of various tiles.

No review next weekend due to Easter travels, but I reckon I’ll be back on duty the Sunday after.  And maybe I will finally dare to venture east…or gosh…even south. Any suggestions welcomed.

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