Beef, Chicken & Pork @ The St George And Dragon, Wargrave, 29/03/2015

Beef, Chicken & Pork @ The St George And Dragon, Wargrave, 29/03/2015

Gravy is ever so important to me.  Some people have a bad day at work and go home and open a bottle of wine, some go home and have a spliff – I go home and have gravy.

And the most important ingredient of a roast dinner is the gravy.  Not just any gravy either – it should have a reasonably thick consistency, and be made from meat stock at the least.  There is no need to get fancy with it.

At the risk of being compared to Hitler, it should absolutely not be jus.  There is no room for jus.  Jus should be eliminated from the roast dinner.  Albeit The Black Boy did do an excellent jus – the one and only enjoyable jus of my life.

I did say that I was going to go somewhere cheap this week but I couldn’t face the possibility of another poor/average roast – I was due a cracking roast dinner.  Plus I had already had to borrow money to see out the month, so I might as well borrow even more.

The random number generator picked The St George And Dragon in Wargrave, which if I recall correctly had been recommended to me by a couple of colleagues at work.

I did try to book on their website, however it was only myself dining and apparently solo-dining is not an option.

Wargrave itself is a nice village, not a place I had ever been to.  Some gorgeous houses, particularly near the station – I am pretty sure I saw one with a tennis court.  Not something you tend to see on the estates up north where I am from.  And I am not talking country estates.

I even felt a tad underdressed when I entered the pub.  It is one of those pleasant upmarket gastro-pub type places, near to the River Thames, with a nice decking area for the summer and a cushion on my chair.

It all looked very tempting – and I compromised on the trio of roasts.  I am yet to decide whether this is a wise idea – whilst this way I get to taste a wider variety, I do wonder if the quality is diluted.  I have yet to rate a trio of roasts that highly.

It took less than 10 minutes for the food to arrive, it seemed closer to 5 minutes.  I was very surprised.  I had hardly started reading the article on Islamic State (I wonder if this is enough to attract the attention of our security services to bad roast dinners?).

The vegetables came in this little cup.  Transferring them onto my plate was a little tricky, and various bits of leaf ended up on the table.

The carrots were good.  Thick, plump and tender carrots.  The kale and cabbage were rather non-descript.  I really am rather non-plused about them.

It isn’t often a parsnip is offered, and this was a really tasty parsnip – honey roasted too.  It was quite light coloured and I would have preferred it to have been more, well, roasted.  But kudos on the single parsnip.

I was excited about the prospect of goose-fat roasted potatoes.  But I shouldn’t have been so excited.  Whilst I could taste the goose-fat, there wasn’t much roasting that had been done, the potatoes were even slightly rubbery on the outside.  They were not bad potatoes but calling them roast potatoes would is against the trade descriptions act.

When the above menu states Yorkshire PuddingS, I was expecting a plurality of Yorkshire Puddings.  I did get one and it was dry and almost a touch on the stale side.  I am glad that I only got one.

There were also two little flat rounds of stuffing.  This was clearly factory-manufactured and could easily have been on one a Tesco chicken meal-for-one.

Two bits of crackling accompanied the dinner – they looked like Twiglets.  And perhaps tasted closer to them.  Again they seemed very factory-manufactured.

It isn’t really going very well is it?  But as you can see there is lots of meat to come.  My eyes did light up when the plate originally arrived, and I did question whether I was going to eat it all.

But why would you put a pig-in-blanket on top of some bread sauce?  Why on earth would you do that?  In fact why would you put bread sauce on a plate?  Or horseradish hollandaise?  Or apple and vanilla puree?  Or a flipping chunk of apple?!  I was becoming mildly riled by this point.

Sauces should surely be in a separate pot.  There certainly should not be 3 sauces on the plate, on top of gravy (more to come on this subject soon).

The pork loin was decent.  It was quite unspectacular.  Cooked a little more than my preference with no remarkable features.

There was a nice-looking piece of chicken breast but the chicken itself was really dry.  I actually struggled to eat it.

I left the beef until last to try, but it was really quite well done.  Not at all to my liking.  Like the rest of the meal it was a disappointment, although the hint of mustard was appreciated.

Now I did consider writing about the gravy before everything else.  Though my introduction may have given the game away.

Or perhaps more accurately, the jus.  It looked more like some kind of glitter-face paint that I might wear to a disco-themed paint-balling trip.

Shiny, with lots of oil and red spocks.  The taste was red wine but it was so over-powering and quite horrid that it totally ruined the whole dinner.

A good gravy would have masked the dryness of the chicken, to an extent.  A good gravy would have enlightened the pork.  A good gravy could have masked the softness of the goose-fat potatoes.

Instead, it over-powered the taste of everything on the plate – and it being a horrid taste, totally ruined what was only an average dinner in the first place.

Some people would likely have really enjoyed it – taste is after all subjective.

But appearance isn’t all it seems in life.  The dinner looked good on arrival but was anything but.  In a cute metaphor, the pub looked quite upmarket, yet had a leak from the ceiling.

This was the first time that I have questioned doing this blog.  In total I spent £25.00 that I didn’t have, and 3 hours of my life including the travel time for absolutely no satisfaction or enjoyment whatsoever.  What was initially an adventure to a new village soon realised itself into a chore.

I haven’t even enjoyed writing this.

My score is 3.4 out of 10.  Less enjoyable than the Toby Carvery,

Thankfully next Sunday I am in Yorkshire.

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Lamb @ The Jolly Farmer, Hurst 22/03/2015

Lamb @ The Jolly Farmer, Hurst 22/03/2015

The random number generator picked The Jolly Farmer this week.  It’s a Greene King pub just down the road from one of the better roasts I’ve reviewed at the Castle Inn, and on the edge of Dinton Pastures.  Also dog-friendly.

I did say that I was going to go somewhere good this week, but I had a quick glance on their website and found the following poster:

It didn’t inspire me with confidence.  Nor did their 2010-style website.

But with prices from £7.50 (or £7.95 as the website confusingly states) and a two-figure sum in my bank account, I was not going to over-rule the random number generator.

A quick note of thanks to my followers – last week’s review reached the highest total of readers so far at 262 and counting.  If you enjoy my reviews, it would be appreciated if you could share, like, invite your friends, retweet – whatever your thing.  Consider it the oxygen that feeds my enthusiasm.  Or perhaps your duty to spare your fellow humans from  abominations such as last Sunday.

I called first to book, it was an awful phone line and I could only just about understand the person on the other end.  We would not have been seated at the peak time of 1pm but they did suggest seeing as it was a lovely day that we could sit outside.  Forgive me for having lived down south too long but 10’C is not an appropriate outdoor dining temperature.  They do have a nice, large outdoor area though, which would be pleasant in the summer.

I shall set the scene.  We arrived to, an unremarkable-looking pub.  Several people shouting at the football on the television screens – thankfully no television screens in the dining area.  The staff looked on the harried side to begin, with a touch of confusion over who was serving our drinks and showing us to our table once those in front of us had been served.  Some of the clientele, were, how do I put it…matching the price of the food on offer.  Not all, but there was a definite chavvy element within.

There, I have said it.  Last week I offended the feminists, this week I have offended the lower classes of society.  But I am actually a man of the people.  A bit like Ed Miliband.


Anyway, before I go off on one about that tosspot and offend all of my Labour-voting readers.  We were hurriedly given the options still available – chicken or lamb.  I do find it hard to choose anything else when lamb is on offer.

Dinner arrived after a 10-15 minute wait.  It was reasonably well-presented – judging from looks it was clearly not going to be claiming a top-3 spot, neither was it going to be as bad as last week.  A bit like going on a blind date, and being relieved that your date isn’t three times your size, but equally isn’t a stunner either.

The carrots were those baby carrot things, I quite enjoyed them.  They had a bit of crunch to them and still had their outer skin on, which I like.  And they tasted of carrots.  My accomplice, however, said some of them tasted of anus.  I do not have the requisite experience to judge on this comment, I simply thought it tasted of carrot.

The broccoli on the other hand seemed rather anaemic, weathered and tasteless.

I couldn’t work out if we were served with cauliflower or cauliflower cheese.  Two of the pieces of cauliflower suggested not, but the other piece had some kind of orange crust on it.  I couldn’t taste any cheese either but that seems to be a pattern.

There were 4 roast potatoes of varying sizes.  Some large, some small.  And they were an unspectacularly decent gathering of roast potatoes.  Fluffy on the inside, with an element of crispiness on the outside – perhaps more solid than crispy.  Not bad at all.

Apparently the lamb was a lamb shank.  I am not sure why you would be served lamb shank with no evidence of the bone.  It didn’t seem like lamb shank to me.  It was a little more cooked than ideal and fairly tasteless.  A fair proportion with a small side-serving of mint sauce, which normally I would forgo but was useful to add a touch of taste.

My accomplice’s lamb did come with added string.

One solitary and fairly small Yorkshire pudding accompanied the dinner – clearly something mass-produced and popped in the oven for 4 minutes.  On a level with an Aunt Bessie’s offering.  Acceptable.

The gravy summed up the whole meal – unspectacular but decent.  The consistency was thick enough for a southerner and it tasted like gravy without doing anything weird to it.  There was hardly any on the plate but a full gravy boat was forthcoming upon request.

The service did improve – whilst at first it seemed we were a little in the way, it was friendly and courteous enough once they had calmed down – with the older gentleman (possibly Italian?) full of charisma which is always good to see.  Friendly enough for me to forget my bank balance and order the cheesecake for dessert.

It is a rating I have had to think about.  Very unspectacular.  But decent enough.  Better than expectations given the off-putting photograph on the website.  And especially for the price – £8.95 is the cheapest roast so far.  So it was good value.  I have to take into account that it was nearly half the price of the very, very good Castle Inn.

I shall give it a very unspectacular but decent 6.1 out of 10.

Next week’s venue will depend on my bank balance.  I have enough coins in my coin jar to afford The World Turned Upside Down.  Possibly time to stick my hand down the back of the sofa.

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Beef @ The Pheasant Hotel, Winnersh 15/03/2015

Beef @ The Pheasant Hotel, Winnersh 15/03/2015

This week’s roast dinner was chosen by the random number generator.  I find this is an excellent approach of running various aspects of my life, particularly where there are plentiful and variable options.  For example, when I have too many e-mails at work to answer, I sometimes choose which to answer by random number generator.

It means that I don’t ignore those really horrid, difficult e-mails – if the random number generator says I have to do it then I do it,

I did have a tentative arrangement to go for a roast with a young lady from work so I had a quick look at their website.  The website is shocking – it looks like it was made by a 10-year old on meow-meow or whatever the youngsters take now.  It was glue in my day.  I remember being shown a shocking video at school on glue-sniffing.  I hadn’t even heard of it as a drug before then.  So of course I stole myself some Pritt Stick.  Didn’t see the fuss though.

Anyway, not only was the website shocking but the pictures of the food didn’t look appealing.  This for example:

Perhaps the blur was intentional?

Sadly, or perhaps thankfully, my potential accomplice had a hangover less bearable than mine so it was on the train by myself to Winnersh.  I was going to overrule the random number generator had she not succumbed to Sunday service.

Upon arrival I was instantly struck by the televisions showing some rugby game – ITA vs FRA.  I racked my brain to try to work out which teams they were.  I assume FRA were Featherstone Rovers, I guess ITA is Ilkley Town but not sure.  I don’t remember Ilkley Town having a rugby team.  They also seemed to have more than 13 men on each team, though this could have been down to the fact that my hangover had not yet arrived.  My point being that television and food are not compatible in a dining establishment.

The menu which I forgot to photograph was a Mother’s Day special.  Beef or chicken.  Two courses for £12.00 and a free glass of wine for the special lady.  I was going to ask if I was wearing a dress, would I get a free glass of wine, but I decided against applying my sense of humour.

Not everyone gets my sense of humour.  I was in John Lewis the other week, and went up to the vacuum cleaner salesmen and asked if he wanted me to throw the rubbish in my pocket on the floor so he could practice.  He aggressively responded “What did you just say?”.  I was like, “I’m only joking with you.”.  “No what did you just say to me?”.

Sometimes I have to keep inside my head what I think is funny.  I wish other people wouldn’t say everything that comes to their mind either.  Especially on a Monday morning.

But sometimes though in life you do need to have a sense of humour.

Anyway, I ordered the beef and it arrived exactly 9 minutes later, whilst in the middle of reading an article on how gentrification of Washington is not necessarily a bad thing.  Hug your hipster was the conclusion.

The carrots were cold.  I had a few but I didn’t finish them.  This is the first time on one of these reviews that I have left anything other than bone.

The green beans were comparable to eating plastic straws.  I had a few but left the rest of them.

Given the shocking vegetables, clearly the worst vegetables that I have come across so far, perhaps ever in my life, I was curiously pleased to see that the roast potatoes were actually roasted.

About 5 hours beforehand.

Yes they were boiling hot and soggy, yet with a crispy outer edge.

One assumes the microwave found plenty of water molecules in the potato, and none in the vegetables.

Can you guess where this review is heading?

The Yorkshire pudding was a filled-in kind of sponge.  There was no redeeming feature – the taste was exceptionally bland.  Ooh we had a parsnip.  Quite tasty but floppy.

I left the beef until last and I guess it was the best bit.  Which is kind of like saying that the drugs at hospital are the best bit about being stabbed.  Not that I have ever been stabbed, though I was threatened a few times growing up in Hull – including the first week at primary school, aged 5.

Bad was the beef – as bad as the linguistic quality that begins this paragraph.  Far too well-cooked, with plenty of gristle and fat.  It was crapo.  I did mean to write the word ‘crap’ but I actually think crapo is more effective in this case, so I have not corrected it.  I always think of new ideas for blogs, I think one day I am going to do a blog called “Tapas Or Crapas”, but given the shortage of tapas restaurants in the area it would probably need to be a UK-wide blog, or maybe for when I move to London like I have been threatening to do for the last 10 years.

And only after I have gone through my Spanish cook-book bought for my birthday by my aforementioned work friend.  I have spent more time talking about me than the roast haven’t I?

I guess I should mention the gravy.  It was probably Bisto.  Lumpy Bisto.

So this was the worst roast dinner I have reviewed.  But I really enjoyed it in a “I am really going to enjoy writing about this” kind of way.  The whole dining experience actually got even more impressive, as the gentleman on the table next to me returned his starter for having mould on it.  I am going to increase the score a fraction just for having the balls to serve mouldy bread.  The woman cooking did come over and offer not to charge them for it.

I was silently in hysterics.  I thought it was absolutely brilliant.

Thankfully my mum lives 220 miles away as she would not have been impressed with this “Mother’s Day Special”.  It kind of reminds me of the time my grandma took the family out to this crappy, sorry, crapo chain pub for Christmas Day once and the dinner was atrocious.  But it was so crapo that it was funny.  My mother told me that I was not allowed to tell my grandma what I thought of it.  All of my family were like “oh that was really nice, thanks ever so much”, despite leaving half of it on their plates.

I told her the truth.  Thank you ever so much grandma, but it was awful.  Can I cook next time?  They actually let me cook the sprouts now.

I’m going to give it a 1.2 out of 10.  Mainly for the mouldy bread treat and the really attractive young lady behind the bar as the food had absolutely no redeeming features.  Inedible Reading where are you?

On the way home I popped into the Lyndhurst to watch my friend eat a far better roast dinner – which is on my list to re-review as the chef there seems to be doing wonders, and the original review isn’t really applicable now.

I’m going to finish this special review with the first (and possibly last) of a new musical feature.

I wonder if I can fit it into my next DJ set?  Gosh that was a tenuous way to promote.

Please don’t go, don’t gooooooo, I’m begging you to stay.  And eat gravay.  Don’t gooooo owoah owoah.  Just don’t go.  Please don’t go.  Don’t sniff glue.  Just don’t, owooooooahn’t.  Just don’t go.  Or sniff glue.

Next Sunday I am going somewhere good.

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Pork Loin @ Castle Inn, Hurst 08/03/2015

Pork Loin @ Castle Inn, Hurst 08/03/2015

I had a month off drinking recently.  In fact, a month off every kind of intoxicant that you can think of, paracetamol, caffeine – everything.

What has this got to do with roast dinners, I hear you ask.  I’m not entirely sure either.

But there is always a risk after a big night out that there is an inability to achieve the one and only goal of the day, especially after a 15 hour session.

This week though, I had extra incentive as I had the company of my favourite Polish plumber, Tarquin (otherwise known as Ben).  And he was driving.  Which was lucky as the random number generator had picked a pub out in the countryside that would have meant using a bus and a 30 minute walk from the nearest bus stop, which I don’t think my fragile state could have handled.

Actually it wasn’t entirely random.  It was skewed as unbeknown to me I had listed it twice on my to-do list.  But rules are there to be broken, as I may not have said to my mother when the police charged me, aged 13, with trespassing on railway lines.  Kids, if you are reading, don’t go on railway lines.  Gravy is much more fun.

So without further ado, I bring you a roast dinner review of the Castle Inn, in Hurst, brought to you in association with Sunflower Plumbing.

The Castle Inn is a traditional country pub, with low ceilings and warm feelings, next to a bowling green.  Roasts are served midday until 4pm – beef and pork were the choices, though the chicken dish was also amendable into a roast dinner.  It was £18.95 for two courses – if I recall correctly it was £13 for just the roast, perhaps £14.

I did try to enquire via their website form however I did not receive a response.  The website only suggested that food was served – no clarification on whether roast dinners were part of the offering.  Though the Christmas menu was still on the website (it isn’t now).  The website wasn’t especially helpful – I probably would have just assumed that it didn’t do roast dinners were I not on a mission to review all roast dinners in the area.  Being a budding web designer I notice poor websites.

Given the previous day and night’s alcohol consumption, my taste buds were not working in particularly good order.  But my companion is not only an excellent plumber, but also an exceptional cook – no roast dinner has ever come close to those that he has cooked for me.

The dinner arrived after around 15-20 minutes.  It was well presented and came with a separate bowl of vegetables to share.

The vegetables were copious and correct.  Decent but nothing special, the carrots were soft and tender, the broccoli with a little more bite.  The green beans though were quite exceptional – quite stringy and on the thin side – Sainsburys basics these were not.  I do not normally come away raving about a vegetable but these really were quite exceptional.

My friend advised that a hint of mustard was included in the cauliflower cheese.  I cannot say that I noticed.  The cauliflower cheese was again generous, and creamy but very little in the way of a cheese taste.

My driver was not too keen on it been on the plate, however I was not concerned.  What did annoy me, and this is just a fractional irritant, was the apple sauce on the plate – I probably should have mentioned when ordering that I didn’t want the apple sauce (which my driver believes was just from a jar) as this inadvertently contaminated the Yorkshire pudding.

Said Yorkie was very large and home-made.  My plumbing adviser believes that it was cooked in beef dripping rather than oil.  Perhaps just a tad too long in the oven as it was a little more on the crispy side than preferred.

Crispy is also the word for the roast potatoes.  Yes, three weeks in a row I have had good roast potatoes.  In fact these were very good.  Probably the best roast potatoes I have reviewed so far.

There were 3 slices of pork loin.  Not quite as generous as the rest of the meal but more than sufficient, and pleasantly succulent slices with a little fat.  I like a little bit of fat.  The cracking was crunchy and edible but nothing special.  Annoyingly it was laid on the apple sauce.

The gravy was good.  Not too strong a taste, not that I could taste anything properly anyway, and a reasonable consistency.  My calling card for extra gravy was met swiftly and sufficiently with a good-sized pot of gravy.  In fact the service was really good throughout, guiding my delicate state through the process and even anticipating my request for the Yorkshire pudding (not on the menu for the pork) without me even having to say anything.  It having been International Women’s Day yesterday, I should also mention that the barmaids/waitresses were pleasingly attractive.

Overall the theme was one of generosity and the rating will match.  The quality was there too, minus a couple of imperfections though it was a shame that I could not fully appreciate the roast dinner in my delicate predicament.

I do fully recommend this roast and give it a rating of 8.1.

Next week’s roast will be somewhere along the Reading to Waterloo train line.  Well, that’s the plan anyway.

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Beef Sirloin @ The Plowden Arms 01/03/2015

Beef Sirloin @ The Plowden Arms 01/03/2015

With Vladimir Putin flexing his muscles, I thought that I should do the same on Sunday and took a long walk to Shiplake, via Sonning Beach.

It was a pleasant 2.5 hour riverside walk, though the mud ensured that this was more of a pleasant spring walk than a March march.

The Plowden Arms was my destination, chosen by random number generator, my favourite way to make a decision.

They actually found me a couple of months ago and suggested to me on Twitter that they had a very good roast.  I had to check it out.  If any pubs/restaurants around Reading are reading please do make yourselves are to me.  Unless you do a bad roast – in which case you might not want to.  I don’t take any prisoners (of war).

The pub itself was a quaint traditional village pub with some very old music playing – it reminded me of the kind of music they would play in the war to keep up morale.  Wait a minute, were the Russians advancing?

Two choices on the menu for roast fans – pork shoulder with crackling or beef sirloin.  As I had pork last weekend, I had no choice but to go for beef.  As I am trying to lose excess weight, under orders from my sergeant, so I chose just to have the main course for £16.00.

I have to say that the whole menu looked really interesting with various more adventurous offerings than your local Wetherspoons.  But I am here to talk roasts, and roasts only.

Dinner arrived within 20 minutes and I was immediately pleased to see the home-cooked nature.

The vegetables arrived in three separate dishes.  I am pretty sure that one dish would have sufficed.

Carrots first.  They were slightly unusual tasting but in a good way.  So many places just seem to serve up standard boiled carrots when it is so easy to turn an average vegetable into a taste sensation.  Honey and caraway was the flavour – I’m not a fan of honey but it was just a hint enough to be enjoyable.  I have no idea what caraway is.  This is not a northern ingredient.

The cauliflower cheese was good. Tender cauliflower with creamy cheese over it.  A vast improvement from the place I reviewed last week.

King cabbage was…cabbage.  I didn’t eat too much of it.  Cabbage is cabbage.  I just don’t really know what to say about this.

The roast potatoes were very good.  Not quite as soft and fluffy on the inside as would have been ideal, more firm that soft.  But look at those crispy edges.  And they were of a good size too.  A good spud.

My mother would make similar Yorkshire puddings to the one which was delivered.  It wasn’t the biggest, or the best but it was a good home-cooked Yorkshire pudding.  But my mother would have given me three Yorkshires, not one.

However my mother would not cook similar beef as she seems to think pink meat is bad.  I love pink meat.  The waitress did advise upon ordering that they cooked their beef pink, which I thought was a good touch – as my mother would not have been keen.  In fact the service was good throughout and it only dawns on me now that I forgot to leave a tip.  Hopefully this good review will go some way to compensate. My mother doesn’t like my hair cut either.

So back onto le beouf, and it was succulent tender sirloin beef.  A really nice piece of beef.  I was a tad disappointed with just two fairly thin slices of beef as I do love my meat.  But quality is more important than quantity.  Oh there is one thing to mention though – I had a butter knife to cut the beef.  Now it wasn’t exactly difficult to cut such good quality, tender beef – but it did seem odd.

Gravy.  I didn’t need to ask for more gravy as I mentioned it on my online booking with the special consideration of ‘gravy’.  They understood.  Not only was there a reasonable amount on the plate but there was an accompanying gravy boat too.  Maybe they knew who I was?  Maybe my cover has been blown?  Oh and it was a good consistency, a touch of thickness and a meaty taste.

I did really enjoy the meal and was disappointed that I couldn’t stay for dessert as I had changed my mind by this point.  I had to rush off to get the hourly train back to barracks and knew that there was heavy rain on the way (you may also know me from Weather Forecast for Reading).  Also I didn’t want to risk catching trenchfoot.

I’m going to give it a good round 8 out of 10.  I do recommend it if you are willing to take a trip out into the countryside – it is along the A4155 or a 25 minute walk from Shiplake train station.  Or a 2.5 hour walk along the Thames.  Sunday lunch is served midday until 330pm.

Next weekend I intend on going to a nice country pub and sitting in the garden to enjoy a roast and a pint.  My month-long detox will be over and I shall be having a nice vodka or two.  Unless it is on war embargo, in which case it will be a nice pint of cider.  In the sunshine.  I cannot wait.

I’m ready for you Mr Putin.

Innnnnnnnn 1.  We have the disputed territory of Abkhazia.
Innnnnnn 2.  The newly conquered Crimea.
Innnnnn 3.  The gangland of strip of Transnitia.
Innnnnnnn 4.  The exclave of Kaliningrad.
Innnnnn 5.  Another Georgian territory of South Ossetia.
Innnnnn 6.  The war-torn Chechnya.
Innn 7.  A £7million loan to the National Front in France.
Innnn 8.  The newly captured Donbas region.
And Bully’s Special Prize.  Tonight you can win 8,000 nuclear weapons, 1,800 of which active for use straight away.  And a caravan.
Yeah…maybe I’ll stick to reviewing roasts.
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