Roast Dinners in London

After showing my lack of commitment by having a weekend off roast dinners, I decided to make up for it by going to The Telegraph in Putney Heath.

Which required taking…a bus. A delayed bus that I got on 25 minutes after it was due.

Urgh. Time for some words of wisdom from someone I had totally forgotten existed.

Ahhh broken down bus Britain. But don’t worry, change is coming and Reform are going to bring the revolution.

Yes, the party run by the bloke who has done more to immiserate the country in a fetid economic state that any other in recent years (maybe bar Gordon Brown but you’re probably too leftie to agree so let’s stick to leather-faced cunt), thanks to his support for Brexit, is going to make everything better. Change. Yeah.

Lots of loose change for Nigel Farage too, thanks to a £5,000,000 personal donation from a crypto billionaire.

Nothing to see here.

Oh and guess what Reform’s number one policy on finances is? Cutting tax on crypto profits.

Well. I never. Nothing to see here. Yep, you’ll only be taxed at 10% on capital gains on crypto profits, but your capital gains tax on investing in actual businesses that, you know, make and sell stuff, or from selling your home, will remain significantly higher.

Apparently this is even a Brexit benefit. To Christopher Harborne, it certainly will be.

Telegraphing Our Future Corruption

Don’t worry, I’m sure the media will hold him accountable.

The Telegraph in Putney Heath is HUGE. We sat upstairs behind a pillar, and the upstairs had more covers than the whole of the last pub I reviewed, plus a large downstairs – and loads of outdoor seating, including some under in what I assume is a heated/covered patio kind of thing.

Damn if it were sunny, it could easily have been a Sunday Fun day.

Though also lots of kids. And I do mean lots.

I’m aware that there’s been like 200 words since the last photograph and you probably cannot cope with all this reading, especially if you voted for the Green Party in the local elections, so here’s what a proper gravy boat should look like:

Chill, it was a joke about the Green Party – even I voted for one of them as my local councillor, though only because she had green hair and I admired her commitment to being green. Then I balanced it out with a Tory. And I balanced that out with a Labour councillor.

Oh and a token Liberal Democrat.

Which means I voted for EVERYONE but Reform. That was the memo, right?

Telegraphing That I Haven’t Got A Fucking Clue Who To Vote For

So The Telegraph is not only a huge pub, and a huge pub that does huge gravy boats, but has a countryside pub kind of vibe to it. Yet has a decent beer selection also – I had a Santiago by Two Flints, and I do rather like their beers.

I’ve only got the two of you that voted for Labour and the Tories left reading, haven’t I?

On the menu was roast beef (served pink but not arriving pink) at £23.95, porchetta (slow roasted belly don’t you know) at £22.95, half a chicken at £23.45, braised shoulder of lamb at £26.95, or some horrid sounding vegan thing that I cannot be bothered to write out even though I’ve now written more words than I would have done anyway at £17.45.

Torn between the chicken and porchetta, I was advised that the chicken can be dry – admirable honesty. So I went for the porchetta. Guess what? Nah I’ll leave that bit for later.

Lots of different bits going on – starting with the carrots which were a bit soggy yet juicy too. Perhaps had some butter involved but cannot say there was any seasoning otherwise.

A few green beans came again on the soft side – arguably over-steamed.

Telegraphing The King, Be Ready To Take Over

There was a bit of cabbage too, pretty ordinary though always welcome when the gravy is thick…more on that later.

And there was a tiny bit of puree, parsnip puree. Not sure it is possible to make a judgement on a teaspoon of puree. Not that I want a tablespoon. Just give me a parsnip.

Three roast potatoes were supplied, none had crispy sides, all were soft inside, two were dry inside – definitely more meh than joy, though I think they’d been roasted in duck fat so they kind of tasted good. When Reform are in charge – every roast potato in the country will be perfect. Just like that. Magic.

A tale of two halves for the small yorkie (which we had to order as a side…sigh). The bottom was burnt, there is no more sugar-coating that than there is Labour’s council election performance, but don’t worry, Gordon Brown is coming back as an advisor because nothing bad happened when he was Prime Minister. Oh and the top of the yorkie was quite pleasantly fluffy.

So we’d been advised against ordering the chicken because it was too dry. Of course, you know what I’m about to say – the porchetta was too dry. Dry and overcooked, all bar two bites was pretty crud. Those two bites hinted at what should have been.

The slice of stuffing was surprisingly tasteless – maybe it tasted of sausagemeat, and had enforced apple condiment on top. Though the pig in blanket was of excellent quality, a really rather meaty sausage, the bacon reasonably well done if perhaps could have been a tad crispier.

Finally, the gravy – which we struggled to finish enough of to not offend our Yorkshire souls (well, Yorkshire and Chicagoan souls), was delightfully thick, quite a meaty affair, though also there was a hint of granule, there was definitely some salty yackiness after.

The Telegraph.

Thick gravy wasn’t quite enough to save the day from mediocrity at The Telegraph, in the same way that the return of the man who sold the UK’s gold for an average price of $275 an ounce won’t save the Kier Starmer government from mediocrity.

Apparently it’s easy to say this with hindsight. Because nobody could have guessed after 370+ reviews that I might get an average roast at a chain pub, and nobody could have guessed that selling gold at a 20-year low price could have been a bad move. Buy high. Sell low. Eat average roast dinners.

Anyway, so the only good thing on the plate was really good, and that was the thick, meaty gravy. Oh and the pig in blanket which was banging.

Nothing was that bad though, the vegetables broadly decent if uninteresting, the yorkie burnt to bottom but nice on top – the roasties dry inside.

The regular accomplice scored hers a 7.01 – apparently the beef was alright. Actually I had a bite, it was pretty uninteresting. The American accomplice scored hers a 6.80, and my score is a 6.94 out of 10. The Telegraph is a decent enough pub if you live in the area, but maybe don’t mission it from Croydon, etc.

Sayōnara until the end of May, I’m finally (almost definitely) on my way to Japan for a couple of weeks. Though maybe keep an eye out on Roast Dinners Around The World.

Aha. It’s happening. Emperor Gravy could be making an appearance. And hopefully not eating this:

I can still call myself Emperor Gravy from Japan, right?

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