Did you miss me?
You had to go two weeks without being able to read my beautiful, witty, enlightening roast dinner reviews. More importantly, I went two Sundays in a row without gravy. I love gravy. I love beer. I am in love with gravy. I am in love with beer. And I love roast dinners. And I love London. But I especially love gravy.
Two whole weeks without. All was not lost, as I was able to enact one of my fantasies last weekend, which was to prance around a major European city in bright green stilettos.
Ahhhh feel the love. Feel the tolerance. Feel the peace.
Which leads me nicely (craply?) onto this week’s establishment, chosen by the random number generator, The Dove, in Hammersmith.
Walking into this cute riverside pub reminded me of when human beings used to be smaller. A cosy, old feel to the inside, with a small two-level terrace out back – a busy pub with very few free tables on a Sunday. My hopes were high for a good roasting.
Given that quite a few Sunday roasts have ended up with rather far too much fun occurring recently, I decided that I would order soft drinks. This was the most difficult part of my day – I had to order a beer for my friend, and then investigate the soft drink options whilst staring at the pump for one of my favourite craft lagers, Frontier, all the while the demons in my head were hammering away, the beer pump kept staring me – occasionally dancing around in the most stylist manner. Come to me. Drink me. All the soft drinks sounded boring, whilst all of these beautiful alcoholic drinks sounded so interesting, looked so shiny, were singing to me and offering me peace, love and an end to my virginity.
I bought an apple juice.
Another challenge was what to choose from the menu. The main four of beef, chicken, lamb and pork were on offer, priced between £16.00 and £18.50. I’d had beef last time – I do love pork belly but I decided to go for lamb. It isn’t often lamb is available, it was a shoulder shank, and I was confident of a good roast dinner.
Oh there was also a nut roast for £13.50, if you are that way inclined. Diversity, and all.
I sat with my accomplice and discussed discussions over some foccacia and oil, whilst awaiting our roast dinners.
Shortly after, a pot of tea arrived. We didn’t order a pot of tea.
Then two roast dinners arrived, “vegetarian?”. Yeah, as if – I was tempted to roll around the floor in some kind of crazy laughing fit and once everyone was looking at me, I’d announce that the waitress thought I had ordered vegetarian.
[Deleted due to being an insensitive fuckwit].
Another serving of foccacia bread arrived. Which we also hadn’t ordered.
And finally, our correct roast dinners arrived – beef for the bender and lamb for the lesbian. Our waitress asked if I wanted anything extra. I stated that I did, and asked her if she could guess what it was. I gave her a clue, that I was northern. Can you guess what I asked for?
It took her 5-10 seconds, but she worked it out – surely it cannot have been that hard with virtually no gravy on the plate (it did of course take a while to arrive too).
I fell in love. With the waitress. She understood my most important needs. What more can you want in a woman? Very cute too, but most importantly she understood.
But would I love the roast?
It looked good, even with the invisible gravy.
Unusually for me, I actually liked the swede mash. It was rather buttery in taste, melding slightly with the cauliflower cheese. And not too much of it.
All the vegetables were in fairly limited quantities (though the 5 types together were easily a good amount), bar the carrot which was one long carrot cut in half.
There were nibblings of butternut squash – a rare treat on a roast and in soft format here.
The cabbage was truly excellent. Stringy strands of salacious…stuff. It worked perfectly with the very limited gravy.
Finally in the world of vegetables, the cauliflower cheese. Again not a huge amount in itself, quite soft with limited cream. Tasty though.
Then we entered the world of legumes, kind of vaguely, perhaps roasted potatoes. My only disappointment of the day, they were acceptable but kind of under-cooked and anaemic. Not badly so, but a world away from crispy roast potatoes.
The Yorkshire pudding was absolutely perfect. Crispy on the outside, soft and a little soggy on the bum. A large-sized yorkie are the king of things we dream about up north. It would take some endeavour to improve upon this.
Awwww baby lambs. Hmmmm baby lambs. I wonder how many vegans read this? The lamb shoulder shank was exceptional. Loads of super-succulent lamb, it fell off the bone without hesitation. Some juicy fat in places which just added to the extravagance. This was so, so, so, so, so, so good. Eezer goode, eezer goode, whoa, Eberneezer Goode. I wonder if this pub was named after the famous ecstacy pills in the late 1980’s of the same name?
This was one seriously excellent lamb shoulder shank, replete with hints of fennel too. Close to orgasmic.
The gravy complimented the roast well. A decent meat stock gravy – not thick enough for my northern preferences or references but that’s life, I’m down here stealing your money, I’ve just got to accept thin gravy. Though I’ve had much thinner.
So, I was well impressed. Perfect yorkie, sensational lamb, mostly excellent vegetables. The only thing that really let it down was the unroasted potatoes. Perhaps I’m blinkered by being temporarily in love (she understood my needs), but this is oh so close to being the best roast dinner that I have reviewed so far in London. I’m giving it an 8.51 out of 10.
Next weekend I’m heading somewhere a bit too expensive for my liking – well, about £2 more than the £18 I paid here. North too. A kind of posh area. I look forward to urinating in the street and getting my arse out.
Peace out man.