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.