Saturday night and I like the way you roast, unprecedented. Don’t look at me like that. My blog, my life, my lockdown and I will do what the unprecedented fuck I want, thank you. If I want to cook a roast dinner on a Saturday night, I shall do. I …
Do I have a teleport? Do I have a time machine? How on earth do I have a roast dinner review of McMullen’s Irish Pub in Las Vegas? Which is not part of London, FYI. Oh for fuck’s sake, since when did anybody take what I write seriously? This blog …
Everything is cancelled. The world has stopped. But I’m still going around, around a round round round to Rotunda in King’s Cross. Sigh. This might be the last review for some time but hopefully I’ll make your eyes roll enough to vaguely miss me. I’m almost a Brexit-free zone now, …
So far in 2020 on my roast dinner adventures, I have survived rail replacement buses, Coronavirus, a Brexit roast, stabby council estates, storm Keeeeeeerrrah, getting wet several times, crossing a minor swamp and nearly entering a flat-roofed pub. This Sunday I went to Brasserie Blanc on Southbank. Could I survive …
Welcome to a Coronavirus-free zone. Well, you won’t catch it by reading this anyway. And with no tube trains available to me this weekend, my chance of catching it was reduced – so I plumped for a roast near to home, The Case Is Altered, in Eastcote. “Where?”, I hear …
Oval, Oval. I’m never sure about doing that with the title when the area name is in the name of the restaurant, 24 The Oval, Oval. Yet if I didn’t opt for the second Oval I’d be going against my titling precedent. Well, that was a great way to hook …
This week I went to The Herne Tavern in East Dulwich. Is that really the end of my introductory paragraph? I guess so. Why did I go there? Well, I was a bit disorganised this week. Sometimes I have a table booked weeks in advance – just booked one for …
I remember when I used to be wild, snorting drugs off homosexuals on the tube on a Sunday. Nowadays going out in a bit of wind is about as wild as I get…ahhh January you were fun. At least I made it for a roast dinner at Mac & Wild …
What you fucking looking at? We fucking did it, didn’t we? We fucking got Brexit done. And I went for a fucking roast dinner at Poplar Cafe (one syllable) to celebrate. IN POPLAR. OK I no more make a good Brexiter than I make a good democratic vote loser…or even …
Birthday roast weekend. And as my age now has a zero on the end – again, my Instagram manager agreed to arrange my birthday roast for me. Her choice was The Gun in Spitalfields. Birthday roasts have been a bit mixed so far. The first was at The Oxford in …
