The White Horse in Brixton. Horses…white…there used to be a ketamine joke here, but now Elon Musk has come along and ketamine doesn’t seem so cool any more.
Sad times when ketamine jokes are dead thanks to a billionaire that definitely isn’t a Nazi.
Also dead – the flowers in The White Horse in Brixton. Yeah I’m going to have to say “The White Horse in Brixton” instead of “The White Horse” because my SEO plugin doesn’t like me using the same keyword on multiple pages, and apparently I went to a different pub called The White Horse…not that I remember.
Oh yeah, it was in Harrow. That was actually a surprisingly good roast dinner.
I had fairly low expectations this time – it was an e-mailed recommendation, though described as a “standard pub roast”, so the recommendation wasn’t exactly overflowing with vim – a bit like the vase of flowers.
Yet I was quite happy to go to Brixton, as it is relatively close to Croydon (where I live) and I’d had a busy weekend removing all mentions of women and black people from the blog, because I don’t have a backbone to stand up to demands from the TaliMAGAban.
Fuck The Aryan Brotherhood
Embed from Getty ImagesLol, as if I’d remove all mentions of women from the blog, I’m not a piece of shit like…Janet Petro…how is a woman even signing such an order?
Sigh. So, the last time I was in Brixton, it was for an utterly disappointing roast dinner in the kind of establishment that Donald Trump would be in, had US justice actually done it’s job over the last 4 years. Yeah, that was Brixton Prison.
This time I was in a pub which was kind of styled like an Antic pub, at least the multi-coloured chairs and 16 year olds serving behind the bar seemed to suggest.
The White Horse in Brixton is a kind of a mixed-use neighbourhood pub, there were flags up for the egg-chasing, grim and fully graffitied toilets, along with a pool table at the back. I cannot remember the last time I was in a pub with a pool table, though that probably says more about me than pubs themselves.
I’m probably not really selling this, and when the random number generator selected it, I did consider maybe just removing it from the to-do list.
However, despite the fact that it is 2025, you could get a roast dinner for £16.00, I shit you not. You have to go back to December 2022 at The Black Lion in Kilburn for the last time I paid just £16.00 for a roast dinner, though that did have mighty sexy gravy…quite possibly the last time I had sexy gravy also.
So not all doom and gloom this week. Options on the menu were sirloin of beef, pork belly or baby chicken – each at £16.00, or a nut roast at £15.75. Quite why they bothered listing it for 25 pence less than the other roast dinners, instead of keeping price symmetry…actually there are more problematic mysteries to solve right now. They also offer a kid’s size plate at £8.50, which I think is a good touch.
Fuck The National Socialist Movement
Well I should be angry about the unadvertised peas, but I have so much to be angry about at the moment that I’m struggling to be angry. Have I mentioned that I don’t like Elon Musk?
So, starting with the carr…holy shit, no carrots. It was probably December 2022 when I last had a roast dinner without carrots.
Fine. Starting with the red cabbage, which is something I’m never especially keen on, but it was alright – quite small and fiddly bits, arguably a bit too wet, and quite on the fruity side.
Next up, the broccoli, which was a tiny bit al dente and just ordinary broccoli.
Scraps of kale had a hint of perfume within…my accomplice noticed it more than I did.
Fuck The Proud Boys
We had two potatoes which tasted of a deep fat fryer…perhaps my imagination but it seemed that way. Quite dry inside, though some evidence of crispy outsides – if more on the fried side of crispy. I didn’t mind the first one, I didn’t finish the second one.
Not photographed that well, but we also had some mashed potato. Again, a little on the dry and coarse side, but much preferable to the probably deep fried potatoes, and quite creamy…if you can imagine something quite creamy and quite dry at the same time? Quite.
My Yorkshire pudding was actually nice, a decent home-made style, quite eggy, not especially soft but not too crispy either. My accomplice’s was the kind of colour that would see it removed from the website of a US government agency.
I might stop eating pork belly. I’ve ordered it three times in 2025 so far. Twice was burnt – The White Horse in Brixton didn’t burn it but they definitely over-cooked it, and the over-cooking, if I’m being generous, happened the day before. If you told me it was several days before, I’d believe you.
The crackling was impossible to eat, even if I actually had upper teeth (roll on Budapest dentistry in March), the pork itself was half dry – one side was properly dried out, the other wasn’t too bad. There was some occasional joy, not every mouthful was dry, some parts were reasonably juicy, if still overcooked.
Finally, the gravy was alright. I wouldn’t be too surprised if there was some granules involved, but broadly-speaking it looked and tasted like gravy, though it was nothing to bring out the bunting for.
The White Horse in Brixton
Well, it was just £16.00.
Obviously this wasn’t a good roast dinner, and probably never was going to be. Yet I wasn’t overly disappointed – probably because my expectations were low and it was just £16.00.
Did I like anything? Well, the Yorkshire pudding was quite good, I didn’t mind the gravy or mash – basic but acceptable.
However, the pork belly was unacceptably overcooked and some time ago overcooked, the roast potatoes were fried and there were unadvertised evil peas.
My accomplice had the beef – some of which was quite nice apparently, but some was too chewy to eat also. Along with the burnt Yorkshire pudding and her vegetables apparently tasting of children’s perfume (the place did seem to be run by 16 year olds…though quite possibly I’m just disappointed in not looking young any more), she scored it a 5.30.
For some reason that is quite possibly £16.00, I don’t want to hate on this roast dinner as much as I probably could…my score is a 5.94 out of 10. It’s probably a much better pub for having a few beers in, and with a 3am licence, it is probably quite fun on a weekend night.
No roast next week as I’m up north visiting family, but I’ll be back the Sunday after, and I’ll be going to another reader’s recommendation…this one I have a bit more hope for.
Embed from Getty ImagesAnd, no, I’m not removing references to black people, especially Jay-Jay Okocha. LEGEND. Have I mentioned that I hate Elon Musk?
Summary:
The White Horse, Brixton
Station: Brixton
Tube Lines: Victoria
Fare Zone: Zone 2
Price: £16.00
Rating: 5.94
Loved & Loathed
Loved: It was under £20.00. And it was under £19.00. And it was under £18.00. And it was under £17.00. The Yorkshire pudding was pretty decent.
Loathed: The pork belly was unacceptably overcooked and some time ago overcooked, the roast potatoes were fried and there were unadvertised evil peas.
Where now, sailor?
Random roast review: The Old Bull & Bush, Hampstead
