Roast Dinners in London

Continuing the tapestry of roast dinners in London, with a trip to Drake & Morgan in King’s Cross.

Though perhaps you might think it more a Doomsday Book than a tapestry.

Speaking of Doomsday cults, I guess I’m part of one given that I’m using our killer AI monster bot to recreate the Bayeux Tapestry for roast dinners.

Though we do have the 4 horsemen of the apocolypse running the world in Putin, Trump, Xi and Netanyahu (maybe I give the last one too much credit, but he’s a death-ordering bastard so it fits).

Granted only one has probably ridden a horse, though apparently Netanhayu is good at drawing horses, and Xi was gifted a horse by Macron. Possibly AI is hallucinating here – it seems to think I’ve already reviewed Drake & Morgan which is also crunk, but I cannot be arsed to fact-check. It’s the internet. Who needs to fact-check it?

And Donald Trump won Indy 500 when he was younger, which is similar to getting on a horse.

A bit younger anyway.

The Great Yorkshire Pudding Singularity

Why am I talking about horses?

So not all the roast dinners I’ve had belong in the Doomsday book – but a trip to Drake & Morgan was always going to challenge a new entry.

Why go to somewhere expecting a crap roast dinner?

Well, it was a matter of convenience. Mother Gravy is still unwell, hence my much more regular weekend visits to Hull, and arriving back mid-afternoon after a long train journey without much energy or motivation, it was a case of just go to the closest place that I haven’t already reviewed.

Said place was Drake & Morgan. Energy was low, motivation was low, expectations were low. And it was raining.

Anyway, I asked Claude for some background details on Drake & Morgan, and it replied, “turns out you’ve already reviewed this”.

NO I FUCKING HAVEN’T. I have never stepped foot inside a Drake & Morgan.

But I did review their roast dinner delivery meal kit during lockdown. Apparently. Which shows just how memorable it was. And scored it 5.80 out of 10, due to the gravy being disgusting. If I had remembered that, then I still would have gone because the next closest place was Granary Square Brasserie and do you want to see the shit they serve there?

Oh Mother Gravy, hurry up and get well soon otherwise my fate is even more doomed than Drake & Morgan. That gravy does have potential though.

Gravy Achieves AGI

Anyway, don’t worry about AI destroying mankind – there is nothing to worry about according to the man who knows most on the subject:

If you cannot trust Donald Trump over someone who clearly knows nothing on the subject of AI, like Demis Hassabis, the co-founder of Deepmind, who incidentally has a Nobel Prize in Chemistry, a knighthood, a CBE, a Breakthrough Prize in Life Sciences, Albert Lasker Award for Basic Medical Research, Canada Gairdner International Award, Dan David Prize, Wiley Prize, Princess of Asturias Award, Mullard Award and is a fellow of the Royal Society and the Royal Academy of Engineering – then you are the problem. Clearly.

Oh and he designed Theme Park.

Maybe back onto the roller-coaster of roast dinners in London, I was at Drake & Morgan – it’s fucking huge, like bigly huge with a massive basement and larger upstairs – one assumes maybe it could hold a couple of thousand on a busy night.

More known as a cocktail bar, they do also have a section reserved as a restaurant.

It was quiet when we went in. So they put us next to two other people so we could share conversations. How kind of them. Like, dozens of other tables we could have been on, but no let’s plonk them right next to two other people talking about their respective (and not very interesting) life crises.

Roast Potato Cloud Infrastructure Goes Down

So the beer choice was basic at Drake & Morgan, but that was to be expected. I had a Cotes Du Rhone instead, which was pleasant and relatively affordable for London prices, maybe £11 for 175ml.

Roast dinners were just a small part of a main menu, so it isn’t like they focus on them either. Nut roast for £17.00, rump of beef for £21.00 or half a chicken for £20.00. In the affordable category for central London.

I went for the half a chicken, and it was plated up in full view of us, and brought over within 10 minutes.

Once I’d shuffled things around so you could see (original image on the website cover), this is what we had. Well, it’s what I had. You are never going here for a roast dinner. Please don’t.

So the carrots were quite nicely done, soft and buttery – expect that they were too salty. Really too salty.

The kale was even saltier, again I couldn’t eat much of it. But again it was nicely done, soft and tender – blanched well. But too fucking salty.

Gravy Achieves Recursive Self-Improvement

Thankfully the parsnips were not salty, though they were undercooked and anaemic. Marginally less inedible.

There was a curiousness about the roast potatoes. 8 of them, for some reason, and no I didn’t eat them all – same goes for everything on the plate. At first I thought they were from a freezer bag, but one or two (well, one) was actually really fluffy inside and clearly actually roasted. It was almost like they had tried to make roast potatoes that seemed to come from a bag. Edible, though not delightful.

The Yorkshire pudding was probably the pick of the roast, though that had been sat under a heatlamp for quite some time – yet with enough gravy actually became soft and pleasing.

In choosing the chicken, I’d ordered the best of the two meats.

It was crap though.

Somehow piping hot on arrival, yet no evidence it had been cooked the same day. The juicyness of a tea towel, and we were back to salty. So dry that I didn’t enjoy any of it. Wing dry, leg dry, thigh missing, breast dry as fuck.

Yet my accomplice’s beef topped this:

It’s almost like this was from the freezer, chewy, plain-tasting – similar vibes to eating a dishcloth. It looked awful, and was worse.

Finally, the gravy was inoffensive. Lumpy, clearly had some cornflour in it to thicken it up, and a bit of salt. Why not put a bit more salt on a salty roast dinner, huh?

Drake & Morgan

Well, at least both of us had a similarly shit experience this week, unlike the contradiction of the week before.

Drake & Morgan is a nice place for a cocktail, and good for large groups.

But for beer, and roast dinners, it is shit. I love beer. I love roast dinners. There are reasons why I’ve never been to Drake & Morgan before.

Erm, did I like anything? Not really, though the place is nice, and they give you blankets. In summer. I guess the yorkie was pleasant.

The chicken was dry as fuck, the vegetables were too salty, parsnips undercooked and gravy bland.

My accomplice scored it a 4 out of 10, I’m scoring it a 3.82 out of 10.

Fingers crossed that I’m not expanding the Doomsday Roast Book again next week. But my currently booked place is much better for beer than food. Maybe I need to change plans?

Rate this place from My Roasts.