Lamb Shoulder @ The Reformation, Gallowstree Common

Good afternoon.  I am writing to you from my hospital bed.

I’ve been shot.


I have long feared an attack by the mafia for my occasionally stinging reviews.  Some food reviewers will always give a suspiciously marvellous review but I have always told you how it is.  Or how I view it through a bowl of gravy.

It has to be the mafia, doesn’t it?

Surely?

First there is something more important to tackle, which is a review of The Reformation in Gallowstree Common.  Recommended to me by a reader – you may have noticed that I have recently visited a few places on the advice of readers instead of random number generator.

I’ve just had a thought.  Do you think Get Reading had me shot?  Maybe them stopping publishing the reviews was their way of telling me – NO MORE?  Perhaps I was negating onto their territory and they wanted the local food review business for themselves.  That and I’ve been a little rude to them occasionally – almost accusing them of publishing 100 stories a day about IKEA in return for some nice funding.  That was a bit out of order from me.

But then again they were nice about me yesterday, and published a roast dinner story using mostly my photographs, and also linking to my page.

Cover up?  If I survive my ordeal, maybe I should change careers to be an investigator?  It looks like my modelling days are over.

The journey yesterday started with the bus driver trying to extract £36.50 out of me for a return journey which took about 15 minutes.  I refused to pay it – maybe that’s who it was?  I didn’t pay the protection money.  It was a different bus driver on the way back.  Fuck.

The pain is coming back.  The drugs are wearing off.  Help me.  Nurse?  Nuhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrssssse?

I must dictate what I can whilst I can.  I feel so weak.  I might not survive.

The pub was very welcoming – with around 50 houses in a village that I have never heard of, it must be doing something right.  It even had a wall of graffiti on the inside as if it was considering a move to Dalston.  Some cute and friendly blonde girls – wait a minute – could it be a feminist that shot me?

I sat down outside in the sunshine, and waited around 10-15 minutes for the roast to arrive.  I wasn’t that hungry which was a good job as there wasn’t much food in the oversized half-plate half-bowl that arrived.  I had ordered the lamb, but there was also chicken and beef available – they do recommend that you order the roasts in advance as they only make so many.  I cannot remember the price – somewhere around £15.00.

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It could have been IKEA themselves after I uncovered their plan and laughed at their car park problems.  You know what the Swedish are like.

There was one carrot, pompously cut lengthways into 3 strips, including the green roots which is a nice if hipsterish touch.  Speaking of hipsters, maybe it was the guy behind This Is Reading?  Someone told me that he is now the executive director of Sky News, but I always thought that he was slightly unhinged, and after I made a rude comment on his page a while back, maybe he has found out who I am?

Actually I need…aaaaaarrrrrgggghh.  Ugggghhh.  Delete that.  No delete.  How do you delete on a dictaphone?  Oh I give up.

Actually I am going to talk about the gravy.  It is the most important part of the dish and I might not make it to the end of my review.  And this gravy ruined the whole meal.  I was promised “proper gravy”.  And it was gravy – a very rich gravy.  It tasted of red wine, perhaps some nutmeg but it was just utterly overpowering and I simply didn’t like it.  Southerners may like it.  I did not.  I felt it was quite a risky gravy – I am in no doubt that some people would be impressed but it simply wasn’t for me.

Maybe Farage has bumped me off?  I forewarned you all not to vote Brexit but yet look what happened.  Maybe he knows that I am going to fight and reverse the decision as the next Prime Minister (assuming the drug laws are overturned before then) and that he simply had to have me bumped off.  Eeeeeeuuuughggghghgh.  Pain go away please…I mean Farage go away.

There were two sticks of tenderstem broccoli.  Firm yet not overly tough and apart from the horrid gravy were pleasant and edible enough.  Edible Reading.  Could it have been he/she/heshe?  See my first thought was that they had also been threatened by Get Reading, hence the recent lack of posts.  But then maybe that is a cover up to bump me off, and be able to claim the crown of number 1 food reviewer in the area.  Maybe with me gone, he/she/it will then feel able to start reviewing roast dinners too.  Oooooh.  Aaaaaarrrrrrggh.

There were 4 mange tout.  Tough and very crunchy.  Or were there 5?

I mustn’t forget the couple of withered bits of floppy dark green cabbage.  Thinking of withered bits, could it have been the local LGBT society that arranged for me to be killed off after seeing how I rejected my sex change within 24 hours.  One day I was a straight man, the next a lesbian, then back to being a straight man with both a vagina and a penis.

My plate was also blessed with one piece of cauliflower cheese.  Nurse?  Nurse, I need some drugs.  Over here.  Nuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrssse.  It was good, creamy and a touch cheesy and simply not anywhere near enough.

Could it have been Wendy 87-last-names from whatever that pub was next to The Crown in Playhatch?  She really took offence to a decently average review – calling me an idiot and a tin-pot-trip-adviser-reviewer.  Though surely she would not have waited this long?  And to think that I really wanted to go back there, I might never have the chance to now.

Sniff, sob, sob.  Oh why me?  Why did I have to get shot?

I love you mum.

And dad.  And grandma.  And sister.  And all my friends.  And Blanca Suarez – I love you the most.  Get the nurse.  GIVE ME DRUGS.

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Surprisingly there was more than 1 roast potato – 3 in fact, all on the large size, all allegedly roasted in duck fat – they probably were but sadly the gravy overpowered any taste.  The potatoes certainly had the sense of having been cooked some time ago and were a touch on the chewy and dry side, but not overly bad.

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Unlike my crystal meth dealer.  She is bad.  Evil.  I haven’t mentioned her until now but maybe she is worried that I have loose lips.  It isn’t Blanca, before you ask.  Blanca is the nurse this afternoon.  And my future wife.

Ahhhh nurse.  About time.  I need some drugs.  Yes, morphine, Tramadol and ketamine please.  And some crystal meth.  Oh, wait, wait, do you have any mescaline?

Shit, could it be Blanca?  But I haven’t even started stalking her yet (by the way don’t watch I’m So Excited – an absolutely abominably gash movie that the nurses played to me last night after my emergency operation).

The lamb shoulder was a decent cut, it fell apart quite easily though was cooked rather well done – too much so for my tastes.  That said, like all the ingredients to the meal it was of a high standard, yet ruined by the gravy.

Speaking of high quality ingredients, a ha ha ha ha ha.  Wetherspoons.  The CEO been so ashamed by the dreadful review that I gave his establishment that they had to stop doing roast dinners.  Maybe this was the only way back – have me killed then start serving roast dinners again.  Maybe the food processing factory owner is so angry about the lack of roast dinner sales?

 

The pain is so much now.  Unbearable.  I have almost made it to the end of my review but it is unlikely I will live long enough to see the visitor statistics.

The highlight, ouch.  I cannot…I…the welcome.  The welcome was so warm and friendly.  The lowlight was being shot.  I stepped outside, looked at the sunny skies, and walked towards the bus stop.  I saw the bus heading towards me.  It was a different bus and a different driver.  And the next thing I saw were these walls.

5.9.  Out of aaaarrrrghghhh 10.

Dear readers.  If you love me like I love you, I ask of you two things:

  1. Avenge my death.
  2. Don’t forget me.  Don’t let my hard work for the community go in vain.  Make sure everyone knows where to go and where to avoid for their Sunday lunch.

Maybe I will see you in the next life.

Ahhh nurse, the drugs.  It’s been hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm I mmmmmmmmmmmm think I l………………………………mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

love hhhhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  Floating away.

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Pollo @ South Hill Park, Bracknell 13/08/2016

Hola mis amigos.  Hello my friends.

Si, yo escribo en Español esta semana. Por qué? Porque necesito practicar mi Español por cuando yo hago Roast Dinners En Eivissa (Eebeefa a estos que votar Brexit – bastardos).  Yes I am writing in Spanish this week.  Why?  Because I need to practice my Spanish for when I do Roast Dinners In Ibiza (Eebeefa to those who voted Brexit – bastards).

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Es mi numero uno sueño.  It is my number one dream.

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Espero tú entiendes Español? Me gusto mucho Español y las mujeres Español, hmmmmm.  I hope you speak Spanish?  I like Spanish a lot and the Spanish women, hmmmmm.

Entonces. Ayer yo caminado a South Hill Park en Bracknell. Cuando hablo con nadie de Hull, digo ese Bracknell es como un estado de consejo pero todos gente trabajar y votar Tory. En Hull, tú no camina en estos barrios.  So.  Yesterday I walked to South Hill Park in Bracknell.  When I speak with anyone in Hull, I say that Bracknell is like a council estate but everyone works and votes Tory.  In Hull, you do not walk in these neighbourhoods.

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Es extraño pero in el media de barrio mierda, allí este un casa grande – múy grande y viejo. Y unos gente me diga ese ellos hacen la major cena de roast en Bracknell. No dificil! Mi mejor es The Golden Retriever con un 5.3. Bracknell es malo por comida. Bracknell es malo por todos.  It is strange but in the middle of this shit area, there is a large house, very large and old.  And some people told me that they make the best roast dinners in Bracknell.  Not difficult!  My best is The Golden Retriever with a 5.3.

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Hola mujeres Español. Soy guapa y rico. Mis cajones son grandes.  Hello Spanish women.  I am handsome and rich.  My testicles are large.

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Ellos vendieron pollo, vaca y hmmm no recuerdo. Cerdo? Adémas un trio por £13.00. Pago £11.00 por mi cena de pollo.  They sold chicken, beef and hmmm I don’t remember.  Gammon?  Also a trio for £13.00.  I paid £11.00 for my chicken dinner.

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Esperado diez minutos, y mi cena llegado. Tú recuerda Eldorado? El mejor television por de BBC.  I waited ten minutes, and mi dinner arrived.  Do you remember Eldorado?  The best television from the BBC.

La vegetales llegado en un plato separado de mi carne. Me disgusto con el salsa múy poco pero ellos me oferió un enorme taza y sasla. Muy felicidad.  The vegetables arrived on a separate plate from my meat.  I was disgusted with the very small amount of gravy but they offered me an enormous cup of gravy.  Very happy.

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Comienzo con los vegetales. Los zanahorios fueron delgado y ordinario. Dos brocoli fueron además ordinario. Tres coliflor (gracias Google translate) fueron además ordinario. Hmmm.  I started with the vegetables.  The carrots were thin and ordinary.  Two broccoli were also ordinary.  Three cauliflower (thank you Google translate) were also ordinary. Hmmm.

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Ellos paracen como ellos hacer en un fabrica. No le club nocturne.  They seemed like they were made in a factory.  Not the nightclub.

Los chirivía (Gracias Google de nueva) fueron profundo frito. Que de puta madre?! Ellos fueron cinco, pero no como todo. Yo siempre como todo. Malo.  The parsnips (thank you Google again) were deep fried.  What the fuck?  There were five but I did not eat all.  I always eat everything.  Bad.

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Las papas y además profundo frito. Que de puta madre. Como las papas pero no felicidad. Siquiera ellos bastante suave en el interior.  The potatoes were also deep fried.  What the fuck.  I ate the potatoes but I was not happy.  At least they were quite soft in the middle.

El Yorkshire pudding (seriousamente, Google?) fue múy grande y el parte mejor de la cena. Hacer en casa pero no cavidad – como un Yorkshire balo. Beuno pero no múy bueno.  The Yorkshire pudding (seriously, Google?) was very large and the best part of the dinner.  Made at home but without a hole – like a Yorkshire ball.

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Proxima de ultimo, como el pollo. No un pollo actualmente – es fue un pollo de Bernard Matthews, o similar. Tú conoce el tipo. Hacer en un fabrica. De nueva. Puta madre.  Next to last, I ate the chicken.  It was not actually chicken – it was a chicken from Bernard Matthews, or similar.  You know the type.  Made in a factory.  Again.  Mother fucker.

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Finalmente la salsa. Tambien conocido como gravy en Inglés. Es gustar como Bisto. En Inglaterra, ellos normalmente hacer múy bueno gravy. No aqui. Ellos hacer Bisto. Mucho sal.  Finally the gravy. Also known as gravy in English.  It was like Bisto.  In England, they normally make very good gravy.  Not here.  They made Bisto.  Lots of salt.

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Donde esta las putas?  Where are the prostitutes?

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Entonces. Es no le mejor cena de roast en Bracknell. Mi clasificación es un 4.2 de 10. Pero un casa bonito, y los jardines son múy grandes y bonito tambien.  So.  It was not the best roast dinner in Bracknell.  My classification is a 4.2 out of 10.  But a beautiful house, and the gardens are very large and pretty too.

El semena proxima, voy a ir norte de Reading. Espero es mucho bueno.  Next week, I am going north of Reading.  I hope it is very good.

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Tú vendes drogas? Me gustan.  Do you sell drugs?  I like them.

Puta madre ese múy dificil. Hola mujeres bonita, quieres un novio bonito, guapa y rico (pronto)? Enviar me tú foto. En un vestido. No desnudo – quiero una señora – no una puta.  Mother fucker that was very difficult.  Hello beautiful women, do you want a beautiful, handsome and rich (soon) boyfriend?  Send me your photo.  In a dress.  Not naked – I want a lady, not a whore.

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Rib Of Beef @ The Bull, Arborfield 07/08/2016

Hiya. I’ve just got back from the salon, and wow, my eyebrows are on fleek now. You should see how beautifully curved and feminine they are. Threading heaven.

Oh yes, I should explain. I have finally had my operation. I have had the change. I am now Lady Gravy.

That won’t be the only change. As I have suddenly realised that all these tight-fitting tops and dresses that I’ve had to buy don’t hide my manly beer belly. I fear that there will be no more roast dinners for me. I guess I will be starting a new blog – Low Calorie Salads Around Reading.

So yesterday, I put my short shorts on (still got the same ones from before the change – they kind of work, or at least will until I have finished my 100 squats a day programme and have a really cute, curvy bum), snorted a line of oestrogen powder, quickly splashed a load of fake tan on my legs…I really must shave them, and headed to The Bull, in Arborfield. Ooh maybe I could start a blog reviewing local tanning shops?

The Bull is a venue that is very much set up as a restaurant inside, and kind of reminded me of a Little Chef in structure, yet with a very pleasantly set garden and roast dinners served from lunch until well into the evening.

We had the usual choices, chicken, pork, beef and lamb, with varying prices from around £11 to £17 – give or take as I was more concerned with deciding what colour to paint my nails than what price the dinners were. I do remember that the rib of beef, which I chose, was £13.50.

By the way guys, before you start fantasising over my new body, I would just like to clarify that my sexual preferences have not at all changed. I still am only interested in lesbians.

10 minutes passed as we sat in the late afternoon sunshine, I had a few odd looks, mostly from the girls, but that is nothing new. Jealousy. Always was, always will be. I will just have to get used to it as I am the most beautiful.

The dinner arrived with a shared bowl of ordinary vegetables.

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I shall start with the ordinary, for I am most definitely not ordinary any more.

Carrots, broccoli, cauliflower which had all been steamed and were very much like my mother does them. Oh hi mum, I have boobs now. Only one piece of broccoli and cauliflower each, with too many carrots. All fine but nothing to write home about, a bit like my change which is probably going to surprise my parents as I haven’t told them either. No this is not because I am still unmarried.

Did anyone watch The Only Way Is Essex last night?

The roast potatoes were large and cumbersome, a bit like my beautiful new boobs. A little greasy on the outside and not at all crispy, but at least they were edible. A bit like my wonderful new boobs. I have had far worse. Again, a bit like my gorgeous new breasts. I only had one bite though as they have too many calories.

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By the way, that was a joke about watching The Only Way Is Essex. Just because I now paint my toenails in matching colour to my dress does not mean I watch shit TV. Fuck off. Oh, I mean, get out of here. Clearly I need a little more language training to be a proper lady. Unless of course you go to Ladies Day at Beverley racecourse (near Hull) which has anything other than ladylike behaviour. Oh damn, does this mean I cannot urinate in on the street now? I didn’t think of that.

The Yorkshire pudding was to a good standard. Large, homemade and crispy, it was very, very good. Again, I only had one bite, and licked the rest as I need to perfect my body. I’d like to be a gymnast by the next Olympics. Do you think I might qualify?

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Thankfully the Atkins diet (that is still the latest diet fad isn’t it?) meant that I could eat all the beef on the plate. And this was good quality rib-eye beef – particularly tasty, a slight hint of pink to it, two slices around 7mm thick. Easily the highlight of the plate. Ooh, maybe I should get highlights? What do you think, girls?

Finally, the gravy was ok. A hint of an attempt at a red wine gravy, and slightly more jus-like than gravy. I’ve had worse.

Overall I quite enjoyed the dinner. A pleasant afternoon with a good, if mostly unremarkable roast dinner. The beef was particularly excellent.

I shall give it a femininely-shaped 7.3 out of 10.

I actually went into the gent’s toilets too, for old time’s sake, and thought that this was a bit of an odd set-up:

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It reminded me of the toilet I went into in Berlin once, which featured two toilets sat opposite each other.  I guess it must be a thing in Germany to watch each other pee/poo.

Semana proxima, yo escribo en Español. Seriousamente. Hmmmm mujeres Españoles.

By the way, I went for double D boobs. This bra wearing thing is a bit annoying though. Maybe I will become a feminist.

Right, I need to go practice walking in my heels. What is it that Bart Simpson said? Heel, toe, heel, toe. That is right isn’t it?

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Beef & Pork @ The Rowbarge, Woolhampton 31/07/2016

Welcome back to Roast Dinners Around Reading. Not sponsored by IKEA.

I accept that this might have been a tad more appropriate had I done it last Monday or the Monday before – timing in humour is as important as legs as are to chairs. Such as this wonderful Brown Dunoon Dining Chair from World Stores – everything for the home.

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I did give IKEA an opportunity. I wrote to them and offered them the opportunity to sponsor Roast Dinners Around Reading:

Dear Sir

I note that you have recently opened a new store in Reading.

It is hard not to notice, as roughly every hour, the local ex-newspaper, Get Reading, will publish a story about your new store. They didn t get that excited when the new chicken shop in town opened. I do like chicken. Especially chicken roasts.

Anyway, I thought I would introduce myself. I run Roast Dinners Around Reading, which is a weekly blog reviewing a roast dinner in the local area. As you are new to the area, I thought that you might be interested in having a read – http://www.rdrdg.co.uk/. I also have a handy league table so that you can easily see the best place to go for a roast dinner – http://rdrdg.co.uk/league-of-roasts/.

Therefore I wondered if you would like to sponsor me. I can mention Ikea in every sentence (ie the carrots were as sturdy as a good solid oak bookcase from Ikea) and nobody will guess that you have sponsored me. Maybe I could even put a photo of a dining table up?

If you are interested in my wonderful and exciting offer, then I will leave it for you to suggest suitable recompense.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Kind regards
Lord Gravy

ps Does your canteen sell roast dinners on a Sunday?

***

I received a response a few days later, though sadly, not quite was I was expecting:

Dear Lord Gravy,

Thank you for your email detailing your exciting offer.

Unfortunatley we will have to decline this offer, however we wish you the best of luck with your Blog.

Kind regards,

Keeley
IKEA Customer Services

***

Not only did they not answer some of my questions, but there was also a spelling mistake. You wouldn’t expect any form of inaccuracy from a flat-pack furniture store, would you?

You certainly would get a top quality wardrobe from PineSolutions, were you looking, such as the below Arabella Painted 2 Door 2 Drawer Robe for just £249.00:

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I like writing to companies. Sainsbury’s are particularly good value, I quite often write to them. A few years back they went through a stage of stocking Goldenfry gravy granules – the kind of northern granules – they make super-thick cement-like gravy. No proper northerner uses that Bisto shit. Of course – those that are not lazy/on benefits/not always drunk/not always on drugs will make their own from meat juices (not sure why I went 10 years with only eating Goldenfry) but when you have a Sweeney & Todd pie, there isn’t much you can do other than granules.

Anyway, they stopped stocking them back in 2011:

Dear Sir

Why can I not find Goldenfry gravy (chicken) in the Reading Central store on Broad Street any more? Gravy is a vital commodity in my life and makes me happy nearly as much as ecstacy, minimal techno and good sex do.

I can only find Bisto now, which to me is rather substandard.

Your other store in Friar Street does not sell it, and I don’t think it ever has.

I hope you can put this right, it will encourage me to visit on a more regular basis, after all, evil Tesco Express is much closer to my house and despite how much I despise it, they offer me the same choice of gravy and a much shorter journey to purchase it.

Kind regards

***

Yes I know I spelt ecstasy wrong but that’s because I don’t really take it so how would I know how to spell it?

Dear Person

I’m sorry you’ve been unable to buy Goldenfry gravy in our Broad Street store. I can understand your disappointment as you clearly hold this gravy in high regard.

Unfortunately this has been discontinued in this store and in our Friar Street store. Our buyers carry out regular reviews of all items to determine how well they are selling in each store. It was decided that because this item was not a big seller, it should be withdrawn to make room for another more popular item or to give us the chance to introduce a new product.

I’ve submitted a product request for this item to be restocked in our Broad Street store. Although this isn’t a guarantee, it does alert our buyers that there is a demand for it here.

We appreciate you taking the time to contact us and lhope to see you in store again soon.

Kind regards
JB
Customer Manager

***

Myself and Sainsbury’s have now got to the point where we have accepted that we are in a relationship of sorts. Actually this is enough crap for one day, isn’t it?

What isn’t crap, is this wonderful sofa from sofa.com.  Got to love a bit of mustard, not only on a roast dinner.  Just £1,680and they have finance available.

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It’s a good job that most of this is copy and pasted otherwise I’d never get the time to write all of this on my “lunch break”.

The random number generator has been sacked and I am going where I want to for now, and this time it was the Rowbarge in Woolhampton. Based along the A4 next to Midgham train station – a truly gorgeous setting next to the river with plentiful outdoor seating – though it was still very busy when we arrived – we had to wait for a car parking space.

Popularity tends to mean quality, just like these excellent Osaka Crystal Flush Ceiling Lights from Wayfair:

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They do roast dinners from midday until 9pm though booking is recommended – as is this excellent bookcase from Furniture At Work:

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They also have daily printed menus, so the selected of roasts on offer changes – we had choices of chicken, rare beef, pork loin, rare beef and pork loin, and finally, lamb. No vegetarian option. Yes, I did actually look. The prices ranged from £12.95 to £17.95.

Great value, just like these kitchen cupboards from Wickes at just £40.00 each:

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We found a table outside, sadly in the shade given how busy it was inside. The table was good but not quite as good as this table from..actually I’m nearly as fed up of this as I am about articles about IKEA.  You get the point.  Have a picture of my roast dinner instead.

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The meal took around 15 minutes to arrive. First into my satisfaction tunnel, was the mixture of carrots and cabbage. Quite uninspiring – it almost could have been from a package. But definitely more of a Sainsbury’s bag than an Asda bag – they were perfectly cooked carrot batons and little pieces of ripped cabbage. And the excellent gravy really added context.

Oddly no other vegetables but it wasn’t as if the plate was sparse.

There were either 4 or 5 glamorous roast potatoes. All quite sizable with a hint that they had been roasted in duck fat though I could be wrong there. They did have that kind of cooked a couple of hours ago texture but overall a pretty decent standard.

The pork loin came in 3 x 3mm slices – it is very difficult to ascertain much difference between different pork loins. Ordinarily good, reasonably succulent with a nice-sized rind of fat around it. It came with crackling which was very crispy.

Also in terms of trimmings, there was a slice of stuffing – really tasty, packed full of herbaceous delights, even more so than my next-door neighbour’s cigarettes.

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We were promised rare beef (yes I brought along my friend that I disagree with on everything – though oddly we both went for the same meal), yes apart from that tiny bit of pink that you can see on the photograph, it was not rare. At least mine wasn’t, as I seemed to have the more well done part. Also a little lacking in quantity.

Any slight disappointment was short-lived due to the excellent Yorkshire pudding. OK, mine didn’t have the perfect structure but it was perfect in terms of soft bottom and crispy edges. And large. How Yorkshire’s should be.

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And the gravy was very good. A meat stock type – enough thickness to satisfy me and a savoury taste to compliment the whole dinner. Well done on the chef for that part.  I can also clarify that I have not upended gravity.

It could have been a top 3 challenger – it looked impressive upon arrival. But a few imperfections mean that a 7.7 is my rating. I was going to give it a 7.6 but that is what my friend that I disagree with everything on gave it, so 7.7 it is.

The highlight was the gravy, or maybe the stuffing. The lowlight was the ordinary vegetables.

Next weekend I have to make a flying visit to Hull but hopefully I will be back in time for another roast dinner adventure.

See what you missed, IKEA?

Also I should add that it is the best place to go for a roast dinner if you are expecting nuclear war to break out.  Vote Trump.

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