Lamb @ The Horns, Crazies Hill 01/05/2016

I was supposed to go out on Saturday and enjoy the British countryside, but instead I decided to focus on my web development portfolio and finish off some websites. It was a hugely frustrating day and by the end of it I ended up feeling sad and lonely.

I should have just stuck on Pornhub but instead I watched a romantic movie. It didn’t help. During which I consumed a bottle of rose wine and large bar of chocolate. It’s like I’ve had a mental sex change.

Mental as in the brain – not as in going loco. Sex changers, drug queens and everyone in between are normal and equally loved by me – it’s the thickness of your gravy that counts. May I take this opportunity to offer a heart-warming welcome to all of my trans readers, along with those who used to like transformers and trance music. If you still like transformers or trance music, you may want to check with your parent or guardian as to whether you should be reading this.

So I woke up on Sunday morning to the sound of not one housemate, but two housemates having sex with their respective partners. Yes I am a fat 50 year-old virgin who cannot even see his nob. You have asked your parents, haven’t you?

I considered blasting out Mel & Kim but just stuck on some banging techno and fantasised about northern women gravy wrestling.

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This week the random number generator picked The Horns in Crazies Hill. It was definitely on the boundary of acceptability in terms of how long it took to get there. By myself. A 30 minute walk to Bracknell train station, followed by 3 trains and then a 45 minute walk from Wargrave. I was fearing it being on the top of a hill after my long journey – but no, no hill, no crazies either.

Dear Landlord/landlady. If you are reading then please update your Sunday roast menu on your website. I was expecting to pay £10.95 for a lamb roast dinner as advertised by the website, but on the day it was £13.95. The price doesn’t really bother me but sort your website out! I can make or update websites for a very efficient cost.

I think the options were beef, pork, lamb and chicken, but don’t quote me. I’d had my heart set on lamb and was focused on it. I ordered at the bar on arrival, and barely had chance to try to remember from my heavy partying days who I had bumped into at the bar, got my seat and my meal was there.

Microwave central.

But on the bright side there was a very healthy portion supplied. However I was still feeling the effects of a tab of acid that I took when I woke up.

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Absolutely no shortage of vegetables, with carrots, mange tout, cabbage and traces of leek in the bowl.

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Starting with the traces of leek, it was difficult to discern any objectivity from the occasional white rings as they were quite on the sparse side. But always a bonus point for leakage.

Speaking of bonus points, mange tout are upper class vegetables suitable for an upper class boy like myself. These were on the crunchy side as was the cabbage – but the enjoyable side of crunchy – not the difficult side.

The carrots were a touch softer, provided in multiple baton format.

I was initially perturbed when I saw a new potato. What? No roast potatoes? But then I saw the roasties hidden behind. It was a large new potato – perfectly cooked with a good solidity and a softness inside. A bonus spud.

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The roast potatoes were, of course, not especially fresh and crispy. They were kind of a cross between cuboids and pyramids – they probably have a mathematical name but I am struggling to remember my own name right now. Quite long and appealing for reheated potatoes. They were a pretty decent effort.

Parsnips. There were a few parsnips too – very sweet and a touch soft despite having been roasted – the effects of the microwave again.

The lamb was a touch on the dry side. And a touch on the cooked quite a while ago side.

Bizarrely though, it was really tasty despite the lack of succulence. 3 fairly thick slices, so like the rest of the dinner, no compromise on quantity.

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Finalmente, el gravio was a very watery affair, but probably the best very watery affair that I’ve had. A relaxed yet flavoursome brown water with lots of little meat stock bits in. It was so good that I spooned some of the leftovers into my gob like a posh boy.

And that is that. Nearly.

The delightful young waitress who had been unerringly polite and quizzical about my experience, asked me for probably the third time how I had enjoyed it at the end of the meal. I told her it was good but that I wish there had been a Yorkshire pudding with it.

2 minutes later…

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Yes. A Yorkshire pudding on a small plate and I still had some gravy left over. Definite bonus points for customer experience. I even left a tip.

It could have been the worst Yorkshire pudding ever but I was over-joyed with the touch, and it was actually a good, albeit small yorkie anyway. Well-risen with a soft, crunchy texture.

The fact that it was my first oootdoor dining experience of the year may slightly skew my ratings – but a 7.7 out of 10 seems about right.

I guess the dryness of the lamb was the lowlight, but the flavour of the lamb was the highlight. On the Yorkshire-Surrey scale it gets Scunthorpe. By the way did anyone go on Pornhub on April 1st? They had changed it to Cornhub, and there were lots of videos of sticks of corn getting down and dirty with each other. Oh yeah.

I wanted to stay for longer but alas there was only one train an hour and I had a date with a group of friends at the Walkabout, some of whom swear more in a sentence than I fucking do in a fucking year. Yes, I do actually have friends. Or people willing to occasionally entertain my presence in exchange for finding out where the best roast dinner is because they still haven’t subscribed to my ramblings.

Next Sunday is going to be an unusually early roast dinner – and co-incidentally the random number generator has picked somewhere that one of my Sunday friends was talking to me about. Fucking well recommended, apparently.

And yes, probably by myself. Ahhhh.



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