Yo, welcome to The Roasteds 2024 – the new name for the awards for the truly outstanding efforts that were made in the name of watery gravy and burnt Yorkshire puddings in 2024.
I was originally going to rename this The Elons, but in previous years it would have been The Trusses or The Johnsons or The Farages, so I thought why not bundle all the morons of 2024 into one, and call it The Roasteds 2024.
Worst gravy, worst service, what the fuck is this doing on a roast – all the classic awards which many London pubs seem to be driving towards, are here.
I even managed to work out a winner out of the plethora of candidates for worst roast potato. Let’s get cracking, shall we?
Do You Want Me In Your Venue
Starting with the award for the venue that really didn’t seem to want customers in there, sponsored by Prince Andrew.
Cafe Kitty wasn’t the easiest venue to find, being on the first floor of a building in Soho with no signage outside that might give you a clue that it exists.
But the dining problems were on that first floor – Underbelly are on the floor below and apparently do kids theatre on a Sunday afternoon, and for some reason the theatre toilets involved walking through Café Kitty. Ambience this was not, especially when the kids started playing with the piano.
The roast dinner itself was pretty underwhelming, but it was the fact that I felt more like I was sat outside a Hungry Horse pub, next to the children’s play area than in a restaurant, enjoying a meal, that makes Cafe Kitty the winner of this award.
As befitting any venue winning an award sponsored by Prince Andrew, Cafe Kitty has closed down now. A shame, as their sister restaurant, Cora Pearl, was pretty excellent the year before – and is still worth a visit.
Worst Service
Onto the award for the worst service, sponsored by Joseph Biden who had 4 fucking years to ensure that Donald Trump was jailed for attempting to overthrow a democratic election.
And now look where we are.
Though it does still feel like I am stuck in my chair still waiting for my roast dinner to arrive, at The Rose And Crown in Clapham.
I think we’d been there for a good 30 minutes before someone came to take our order, and then it took another hour to arrive.
The long waiting time I can cope with, if the roast dinner isn’t turd. But it was turd.
The pork belly was burnt, the red cabbage pungent, it was too hot inside, we had a tiny table, the red wine tasted like it was from Tesco…oh hang on…this is the award for the worst service.
So it was 91 minutes from walking through the door, to me taking a photograph of the roast. But then they had the audacity to take our plates away pretty much immediately after eating, and tell us they needed the table back in 15 minutes.
Well, I guess at least Biden pardoned his son.
What The Fuck Is This Doing On A Roast Dinner
For 2024, this award is inspired by what the fuck is Robert F. Kennedy Jr doing in charge of US health policy. I trust you aren’t using either wi-fi or 5G to read this, otherwise your blood brain barrier is now open to toxins (unless you an account on Truth Social, as there is no brain, let alone blood brain barrier…whatever the fuck that is supposed to be).
Which leads us onto this:
Which leads us to this – a giant yellow pool of sludge.
Before you ask, no this isn’t what the covid vaccine has turned my brain into, but was a mild and slightly creamy puree of swede and carrot.
It wasn’t offensive to eat, but boy was it offensive to look at. Why that colour? Why soooooo much of it?
Kix Bar & Restaurant, congratulations on winning the what the fuck is this doing on a roast dinner award for 2024. It was a half-decent roast otherwise, if you live local then it’s a fair option.
The Stray Pea
In a similar vain comes The Stray Pea award – as pubs and restaurants seem to continually be going down the value chain whilst putting prices up, carrots are omni-present on a roast, and those little green evil things are making more unwelcome appearances too.
I’m fairly assiduous in trying to ensure a lack of peas, but that doesn’t stop one or two making their way through, in the same kind of unknown way that Grant Shapps made his way through government – shall we have a little review of Grant Shapps’ government career?
He started off as Minister of State for Housing and Local Government, back in 2010. 15 years later we still have a housing crisis.
Next up he was Chairman of the Conservative Party. To be fair, he did help them win a majority, so he succeeded there. Yay, go Grant.
Fast forward to under the Johnson era, and he was Secretary of State for Transport – which coincides with all the strikes and TfL constantly having budgets approved for like 1 month at a time. Then Home Secretary…for 6 days. Then Secretary of State for Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy…for a whole 4 months this time. Then Secretary of State for Energy Security and Net Zero…and then finally Secretary of State for Defence.
How the hell did he get into so many jobs?
And how did this get here?
Yes Mare Street Market. After ordering, I did have to chase after the waiter who served us to check that there were no peas, and to order some totally unnecessary pigs in blankets, but he reassured me that there were no peas.
And then came back two minutes later to apologise that they’d run out of pigs in blankets. I didn’t need them anyway.
Yet there were peas. And we received pigs in blankets too. Ahhhhh 2024. And if you think peas belong on a roast dinner, then I have a video of the pea factory in Hull for you to watch:
Worst Use Of Creativity
To some extent I admire creativity on a roast dinner. Watercress – why not. Roasted beetroot, maybe. Side sausage, hell yeah. Avocado…gosh…but yeah.
Yet there are creative lines you shouldn’t cross, as per Nadine Dorries’ generous description of a previous Prime Minister she may have fawned over.
And there are creative lines you shouldn’t even consider crossing on LORD GRAVY’s BIRTHDAY.
Fingerling potatoes.
On my birthday.
The potatoes themselves were fine – there was nothing wrong with them, but The Parakeet chefs decided to trial them, instead of proper roast potatoes. On my birthday.
So the winner of “worst creative”, sponsored by everyone’s favourite forgotten author, Nadine Dorries, is The Parakeet.
Most Overpriced
With the average price for a roast dinner jumping to £24.96 in 2024, there were no shortage of places that were under consideration for the most overpriced roast dinner award, sponsored by all the crypto bro’s out there offering us financial advice.
Yet there is one place that stands out as the deserved winner, which was Booking Office 1869, in St Pancras.
OK, this is a totally gorgeous restaurant, and the service was very attentive – some cute young ladies running it always helps (at least if you are single, male and Neanderthal). Qualities I can definitely bottle of Chekov.
And there was nothing especially wrong with the roast dinner – maybe the gravy was a bit salty, but overall everything was generally acceptable, as if it was a chef in a Premier Inn cooking making a bit more effort than usual, but still playing it safe.
£35.00 though. Thirty. Five. Pound. For a bang average roast dinner, and very little gravy. Which I guess will be the normal price everywhere soon enough.
I did nearly buy Bitcoin at $100 back in 2010 ish. But then it doubled to $200 and I decided “fuck that”. I just have lots of shares in M&S now. How’s that going?
Further From Expectations
It feels appropriate that Rachel Reeves gets the opportunity to announce this award, at least in my head, and quite possibly in her head given the embellishments on her CV.
This award is for those roast dinners that you build up – you know, the ones that are hyped a lot, the ones that various online pontificators say is the best roast dinner.
This was a highly-rated venue, 4.7 on Google – comments like “BEST SUNDAY ROAST we have ever tried”, “Sunday Roasts here are stunning”, etc etc.
Yep you’ve seen this photograph before, the winner of the “further from expectations” award is The Parakeet in Kentish Town.
So along with the lack of roast potatoes on my birthday, came a dry yorkie and watery gravy. Clearly The Parakeet can do excellence – the lamb was really tender, the vegetables good – the venue is proper gorgeous too.
Maybe I just didn’t get them at their best – I wasn’t at my best that day either. It happens. But I thought it was going to be in the 8’s before I arrived, and I only scored it an underwhelming 7.00 out of 10.
Ugliest Roast Dinner
Whilst there is one roast dinner which has to claim this crown – there are multiple potential sponsors.
Think of all the really moronic people in the world, and just think about how many of them are good looking. Trump? Vance? Musk?
But there’s one man uglier than them all – ugliness personified in face, voice and personality, and that is Andrew Tate.
And just how appropriate is a big splurge of yellow goo on a plate, when you think of a moron like Andrew Tate. Gosh…poetic. One day I might write a review in poetic lines, or at least ChatGPT might do it for me.
Anyway, Kix Bar & Restaurant in East Dulwich – the roast itself had some commendations, but fucking hell who thought that even a tiny bit of illuminous yellow puree should go on a roast dinner, let alone a replication of the Marble Arch Mound.
Worst Vegetables
A slightly more off-beat host of the award for worst vegetables – for anyone that believes there is a gazpacho police is clearly as thick as a turnip, and hence Marjorie Taylor Greene is the host for the worst vegetable award.
Well, there might be gazpacho police en España but not of the kind she’s thinking of.
Anyway, only one clear nomination and that is The Angel Of Bow.
Yep, it looks grim and was grim.
All watery vegetables and no seasoning – parsnips were anaemic, carrots were edible but utterly devoid of flavour, the red cabbage tasted of vinegar and the green beans were little but water.
This was basic bitch levels of vegetables.
Worst Yorkshire Pudding
Do you know what else is burnt, over-cooked, being hanging around too long yet still ends up on the plate?
Yeah I came up with that funny myself.
Believe it or not, there are a lot of contenders for worst Yorkshire pudding in London for 2024. The Store in Croydon had a particularly horrid texture, like an old thick pancake, presumably cooked on a different day (yes I’m talking about the yorkie, and not Croydon itself).
The Old Bank of England provided an appealing-looking yorkie, yet it was as chewable as an old pair of slippers. Even The Cadogan Arms in Chelsea failed with their Yorkshire pudding – tough and tearable, though just kind of standard levels of poor.
One place upped their game for me though.
The Rose And Crown in Wimbledon – you can always trust a Young’s pub to pull something shit out of the hat, and this was so dry, floury and miserable in nature – I barely ate half of it. Yuck.
You know, Liz Truss did live in Yorkshire for quite some years, and she is a bit of a…
Worst Roast Potato
Onto the award that most pubs/restaurants want to win. Worst roast potato.
It’s the Elon Musk award – the easy way to self-sabotage your reputation, with half-baked ideas and a belief that everyone loves you. What a miserable fucker he is.
Gosh the list of contenders here is long – I could actually write a whole post about the worst roast potatoes in London.
Just think, The Larrik served potatoes didn’t taste of potato, were all dehydrated to fuck and some actually grey.
Yet they are just a runner-up. The Angel Of Bow – too tough on the outside, and pretty dry on the inside. The Clink Restaurant served them cold and old – criminal roast potatoes served by, well, criminals. From Mondo Sando, they were dry and old, like really old – though we were assured that they were cooked on the premises. Cool.
The Rose And Crown in Wimbledon served kind of grey potatoes – one was stale, one was chewy – the other kind of acceptable. Ffiona’s in Kensington – old, tired and grey – one tasted burnt too.
Sigh.
It actually gets worse.
The Great Chase in Islington, pretty good roast dinner otherwise, served roasted new potatoes, tough and grey-ish inside.
The second image wasn’t from my plate, but my accomplice’s – why serve such a burnt potato?
Yet we can go one step further.
The Lock Tavern in Camden. They didn’t even bother to try to make roast potatoes. We had potato wedges instead. One was simply disgusting to taste – uncooked but tasted of cheap potato, the others were less abominable.
Imagine Elon Musk making you a roast dinner, sorry imagine Elon Musk’s humanoid robots which are going to be released any day now, honest, please keep buying shares in Tesla, making you a roast dinner.
Worst Meat
You might have already clocked the worst meat of 2024.
There’s less contenders for this award than you might expect – possibly because I spent half of the year without any teeth and hence avoided beef which is most prone to disapointment.
Ffiona’s served dry chicken but it wasn’t massively offensive. The Boot in King’s Cross did offend – served me vastly over-cooked pork belly that somehow had bones in – have you ever seen bones in pork belly? Tough, dried-out and ultimately shit.
But there is still a clear winner of worst meat on a roast dinner in 2024.
I know. What the fuck were The Lock Tavern in Camden doing that dark day in January? I don’t even need to explain it to you, but I will – unrendered and hence chewy fat, tough and lacking any flavour.
And that blotchiness – who decided this was good enough to serve? Who thought this belonged on a £23.00 roast dinner?
Worst Gravy
Finally we reach the last award. The award for the most insidious way to fuck up a roast dinner, the award presented by Vladimir Vladimirovich “Still Not Dead in A Ditch” Putin, for worst gravy of 2024.
Of course, the most common crime is being pushed out of a window near the top of a block of flats in Moscow watery gravy, something that Albert’s Schloss in Soho did par excellence, along with The Store in Croydon.
The Angel in Bow went one step further, with watery sludge that just tasted of nothingness. Like you’ve used too much Goldenfry granules in your gravy, yet also removed the salt.
But there was a clear winner of worst gravy in 2024.
Is it gravy, or is it dirty bath-water?
Congratulations therefore to Ffiona’s in Kensington – with gravy that was weakly flavoured, watery, added absolutely nothing to the roast and looked like dirty bath-water.
Two northerners at a table and neither of us were interested in drinking the remaining gravy from the boat. It was that bad.
Where now, sailor?
Random roast review: The Bedford, Balham
