Who fancies a bit of roast dinner controversy, courtesy of The Wilmington, Clerkenwell?
SCHNITZEL!

Oh yeah and that thing, yeah by time you read this, loser Trump, who is too scared of a little bit of cold weather and has to have his inauguration inside…ahhh bless, will be president of that dumbass land of very few roast dinners over the pond.
I decided to mark the occasion of old white men finally having power, by painting my walls white.

Yes, freedom is coming back, people – we’ll be free to invade other countries again, free to bow down at the alter of the economic geniuses Smoot and Hawley, free to kick out all the people of a different skin colour who do the shitty jobs that the rest of us don’t want to do.
Women will once again rejoice at being referred to as “pussy”, black people will praise the loss of civil rights, and everyone who I disagree with can now safely be called a retard, without HR being involved, because, yay, corporations are up for a little MAGA too.

Sigh.
I could boycott Intuit, I guess. That’ll show ’em. Yeah, no more Quickbooks.
Cerne Abbas Giant
Yeah I’m just totally fucking resigned about the cunt farm being in control once more, but don’t worry, we are sending our secret weapon to work in the newly-founded DOCE.
Well, DOCE was founded in autumn 2022, the Department Of Crashing Economies. Hang on, my lawyer wants me to clarify that is actually the Department Of The Economic Orthodoxy Establishment Spiking Bond Yields To Overthrow Liz Truss.
So The Wilmington is a pub that I’ve been in a couple of times before for a drink, just around the corner from the charming Exmouth Market, which has some pretty decent drinking spots – The Exmouth Arms which always has an interesting beer choice (I’m too scared to try their roasts given the looks of their black roast potatoes), and then there is the Mikkeler Brewpub, which is one of my favourite craft beer spots.
Alas, Dry January. At least maybe Trump will let us have plastic straws back now climate change is finished.

I was quite excited to see partridge on offer, which I’d only seen on a roast dinner menu once before on my adventures, at The Lamb in Bloomsbury – so long ago that I still voted Tory back then. Hell Donald Trump had only one won election at that point, as opposed to the three elections he’s now won, and possibly it will be four by the time I next see partridge on a pear tree. If they bother with an election in 2028.
So The Wilmington offered partridge at £22.50, beef rump at £23.50, porchetta at £21.00, cauliflower cheese pie at £19.50 and pumpkin for the vegans at £18.00.
Or…

SCHNITZEL! at £22.50. Oh, also there was a Cote De Boeuf to share for big money.
Bledlow Cross
Of course I chose the SCHNITZEL! Yes, this breaks all the supposed rules of meats on a roast dinner.

How many roast dinners have you written about in your life? None?
Cool. If I want to write about something slightly different for my 317th review, then I will bloody damn well enjoy doing so, and SCHNITZEL! belongs on a roast dinner because I said so. So does spicy chicken. So do sausages. So do sausage rolls. Seriously…I’ve had a lot of fucking roast dinners, let me write about something different. Hell, I’ve even got to spend the next four years regurgitating moaning about the same orange moron once more.

Speaking of orange things, the carrot was decent, very marginally on the crunchy side though tender too. Apparently maple-glazed, cannot say I noticed it.
Likewise the cavelo nero was respectable, quite soft but otherwise unremarkable.
The celeriac puree was more interesting, it had a fruity flavour to it, apple we assumed, and a hint of smokiness to it. Not much on the plate, but I’d argue the more interesting vegetable.
The Long Man

I’ve long learnt that I don’t need cauliflower cheese, plus I’m on a healthy living until I cannot cope with the morons in charge diet scheme thing, so…I ordered a side of cauliflower cheese.
Yeah I know that doesn’t make sense but neither does voting Trump for cheaper eggs.

It had quite a mustardy tang to it, and actually was really quite good. The cauliflower itself was a little on the tough side but acceptably so, and it actually tasted of cheese – there was melted cheese on top, and cheese in the cream itself.
Albeit an oily topping, which is less attractive, but hey.

The roast potatoes tasted like chips, which is not a compliment. It’s kind of tricky to tell if roast potatoes have seen an oven or a deep fat fryer, but inside they had that soft yet smoothly solid vibe of deep-fried chips, and did taste a bit of oil.
Oh and no crispy outsides. On balance, my suspicions are of the deep fat fryer. Were they edible? Sure, I’ve had far worse, including from ovens. Were they good roast potatoes? Nope.
The Yorkshire pudding had seen an oven, for too long. It was quite burnt – not overly so, but I didn’t enjoy it, and it was a tad on the floury side.
SCHNITZEL! It should be illegal to say the word SCHNITZEL! without it having some kind of inauthentic German scream to it. This was superb, and I don’t give a flying fuck if you think fried chicken shouldn’t be on a roast dinner. Who is Lord Gravy? I am Lord Gravy.

Yeah, same photo as early, giving all those fucks too. Granted I should probably use one of my accomplice’s who sent me 10 photos of the same meal, but her yorkie was less burnt so it might confuse you. Anyway, golden breadcrumbs – melt in your mouth standards, nicely plump yet flattened chicken, and lots of it. This was really good and I don’t care what you think. SCHNITZEL!
Finally, the gravy was pretty good. Nothing outstanding in terms of flavour, kind of a balance between being a bit tomatoey and meat stock-ish, some consistency to it too. And it helped round out the whole meal.
The Wilmington
The roast dinner at The Wilmington was a pretty mixed bag.
A burnt yorkie and fried-esque potatoes made me want to squeal a bit. But SCHNITZEL! made me want to scream in delight.
Dry January means I have no idea what the beer choice is like at The Wilmington, but the apple juice was decent, and they had some mocktails if that is your bag. I should clarify that Dry January only counts for when you are in the UK, and I shall enjoy a nice glass of red at Capitaine in Paris on Wednesday – yes, I’m going to Paris just to go for a nice lunch. Because I can.
Service was pretty good, they were friendly and more or less took care of our slightly awkward demands, like no more than one cube of ice in a drink.
The vegan accomplice scored it a 9.50 out of 10. Yep, she had the same roast potatoes we had, but fried potatoes are a good thing in her world. Foreigner.
Others had the SCHNITZEL! also – a score of 8.50, and another of 7.80 from my regular accomplice.
My score is a 7.56 out of 10. A better than average roast dinner at The Wilmington, and I have a little more hope for the future than I did after the previous roast (granted all hope for the future may disappear come Trump’s inauguration).
Exciting prospects for next Sunday – for the first time ever, I’m going back to re-review somewhere (Blacklock doesn’t count). Exciting but nervous…what happens if it is nowhere near as good as it was, when Trump was last in power?
Summary:
The Wilmington, Clerkenwell
Station: Farringdon
Tube Lines: Circle, Elizabeth, Hammersmith & City, Metropolitan Line, National Rail, Thameslink
Fare Zone: Zone 1
Price: £22.50
Rating: 7.56
Loved & Loathed
Loved: SCHNITZEL! made me want to scream in delight. Gravy was decent too.
Loathed: A burnt yorkie and fried-esque potatoes made me want to squeal a bit.
Where now, sailor?
Random roast review: Cow & Pig, Bromley
