Tulse Hill Hotel, Tulse Hill

Skip The Nonsense

Lord Gravy was back from holiday and knackered. So there was only one option and that was to go somewhere with only one train required, the Tulse Hill Hotel in Tulse Hill.

Well it was good to see that they world carried on as normal, whilst I was sat in the sunshine, drinking beer and admiring Slovenian women.

So the world’s 11th most heinous regime has decided to start a war with the world’s 10th most heinous regime.

Donald Trump (head of the world’s 21st most heinous regime though quickly climbing the charts) became offended by the Mexican flag being waved in an area of the world that used to be part of Mexico, so sent in the troops.

And then in quite possibly the most worrying news for some middle-aged women, Brad Pitt started dressing as if he has re-started Danny Rampling’s Lovegroove Dance Party on Radio One.

All these disasters, whilst I was enjoying the hot sunshine in some foreign lands. Ahhhh.

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Oh and then we had Donald Trump’s birthday parade, attended by hundreds, perhaps even thousands of people.

Yep, the world carried on as normal whilst I was away.

Upon return, I was knackered on the Sunday morning, roast dinner day. Wisely I’d eschewed an invite to a pub near Barnet which would have taken two hours to get to, though I still had no plan when I left the house.

I considered just going to my local pub in Croydon, but I decided I just about had the energy to make it to the nearest place on the to-do list, which was the Tulse Hill Hotel, in…Tulse Hill.

A hotel and a pub, with a fair-sized beer garden at the back, and pleasant enough weather to sit outside and enjoy a beer, alas without the Slovenian hotties walking by. A few geezers though.

And then, the world’s 26,395th most heinous regime attacked, as I meandered to the bar and started reading the menu.

“Just to let you know, we are only doing the Father’s Day 3 course menu today”.

There’s No Tulse. Shall We Call An Ambulance.

Rightio. So I’ve managed to leave the house whilst tired and hungover, get on a delayed train from Croydon with no other train due back until 30 minutes after (and it was actually cancelled), whilst not really being hungry enough for a slice of bread, only to be advised that I MUST EAT 3 COURSES BECAUSE DADS.

I tried to argue my case with a sigh and the kind of air of dejection that using dating apps brings when you are not in the top 10% best looking men (or even the top 80%), but was advised “I’m sorry but it’s company policy”.

Baffled at it being company policy to insist on a particular day that all people eating must have three courses instead of one, I sat down, opened Google Maps and pondered my options. It wasn’t like I had a list of pubs with good roast dinners in Tulse Hill to go to.

Ahhhh Slovenia, you were dreamy.

Ahhhh Tulse Hill, you are screamy.

And then, in even less time than it takes Donald Trump to back down from a negotiation, “I’ve spoken to my manager and she said we can do it for you, as long as you leave a review”.

A review, you say? Well, you might regret that negotiated outcome…

Feel The Tulse.

Game on.

Options on the menu were rump of beef, lemon and thyme chicken, mushroom and spinach strudel, date and maple glazed ham, or saddle of lamb.

I’ve no idea how much each was, but the saddle of lamb, which I chose, was £23.50.

I went and sat in the garden, and wondered how guilty I’d feel if the roast dinner wasn’t that good, when writing my review. After all, the last two times I’ve reviewed a pub in the Metropolitan Pubs chain (26,395th most heinous regime), The Hare & Billet in Blackheath, and The George on the Strand, they’ve been poo-er (apparently I’m not supposed to pronounce poor like this, and yes I purposely pronounce hyperbole as hyperbowl).

Yeah, look at those potatoes – everything is normal in London’s roast dinner world.

Starting with the…biscuit? Yep, there appeared to be a biscuit on the plate.

I missed a trick by not dipping it into the gravy, my guess is this is the suet and sage stuffing, though effectively it was a biscuit. I didn’t get any sage vibe from it, but I enjoyed the slightly crisp nature of it.

Where There’s A Tulse, There’s A Possibility

Two roasted carrots, both a little more crunchy than the London average, especially the yellow carrot.

Shock horror I haven’t really photographed the cavelo nero that well, though there was a fair pile of it. Alas, some of it was rather yellowing, and it all felt a bit dank and moist, yet chewy.

There was also a little bit of onion puree, though not enough for me to be really able to judge it – this pub chain does like a little bit of mystery puree, with the stress on the “little bit”.

Three roast potatoes were seemingly deep-fried un-roasted potatoes, from both the texture and taste of them. They were edible, but no crispy outsides, no fluffy insides, no herbs, no seasoning…sad really, but edible, so it could have been worse.

Alas, the Yorkshire pudding had been under the heat lamp a little while and was quite dry on the outside – not too dry, but enough to degrade it. Quite fluffy on the inside though, and tasting of nothing.

I quite liked the lamb, though I do wonder if I’m saying this just because I feel like I need to say something positive as a way of a thank you for letting me have only one course. It was quite chewy, particularly the fat, it may have also been helped with being sliced a bit thinner. However it was a fairly decent cut of lamb, and tasted of lamb.

Finally, the gravy, which was suspiciously orange, as if Donald Trump’s tanning oils had been mixed in, was pretty much just watery nonsense with a bit of tomato, perhaps. I didn’t hate it, but I certainly didn’t like it either.

Tulse Hill Hotel

Maybe the Tulse Hill Hotel should have stuck to insisting on everyone having three courses.

It feels ungrateful to be writing such a review, and maybe both of our lives would have been better if I had just written my 1 star review on Google Maps, and disappeared to another local pub for possibly an even worst roast dinner.

But at least the service was friendly, they did cater for me in the end, the young lady behind the bar was really apologetic at first, and then really nice.

Plus the Tulse Hill Hotel has a nice garden – it’s a very pleasant spot for a few afternoon beers. Speaking of beer, the choice was pretty ordinary, the usual Brixton’s, etc. Possibly a Siren and a Yes! if I remember correctly.

Otherwise, the cavelo nero was grim, roast potatoes were deep fried, yorkie was a bit dry and the gravy was watery nonsense. It’s not an abominable roast dinner by any stretch, but it’s not one I can recommend. Maybe if you do visit on a Sunday, just ask if you can have a starter and a dessert. And maybe double-check before you book anywhere in the Metropolitan Pub chain that they are actually going to let you have just one course…like I could understand such a policy in a nice restaurant on Mother’s/Father’s Day, but the Tulse Hill Hotel is just a pub chain, and one that has gone downhill remarkably in terms of the roast dinner quality over the last few years.

My score is a 6.06 out of 10. Yes, I definitely am fucking back.

I’ll be back next week, with a review of a more refined gastropub, of which I have some expectations of.