I haven’t reviewed anywhere in Twyford to this point so I was excited to be planning to go to The Golden Cross – home of legendary parties called Sticky Wicket that neither you or I were ever cool enough to know about.
Until we called (yes “we”, I do occasionally manage to drag someone out with me) in advance and found out that they are no longer doing food.
Not to worry, we set upon the Waggon & Horses instead. Three options on the menu – beef or pork for £10.95, or a lamb shank for £12.95. I love a good shank so I plumped for that. And I don’t mean the Urban Dictionary definition of shank. Not the one about stabbing people, or golf, but the one about, erm, how do I putt this…erm about slipping out and accidentally going up the back passage.
Erm. Yeah. Anyone putting gravy on their pancakes this week?
Oooh that’s a thought, and an excellent way to change the subject. Lent starts this week. What are you going to give up?
I welcome your suggestions as to what I give up. In previous years, I have given up paper clips, zebra crossings and French swear words. All more difficult that you would expect.
The only thing I can think of right now is black socks. The detox means that I haven’t been smoking drugs recently so I’m really struggling for my usual creative inspiration.
Hi Dad, happy birthday!
So after a 10 or so minute wait with Rick Astley’s radio show in our ears, the dinner arrived.
Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots.
Carrots. Carrots.
Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots.
Carrots. Carrots.
Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. Carrots. I must smoke some acid. Hi mum.
That is all I have to say on that subject. There wasn’t much to say about the broccoli either – it was fine. Don’t worry, my mum doesn’t read this. Though my dad occasionally reads it out to my grandma.
There was a little pile of cabbage which was seemingly blanched enough. It was again fairly bland but edible.
It wasn’t all this uninspiring though. There was also a yellowish mashed pile of something, I think swede, although I’m used to it being orange, which was quite succulently buttery. Best swede ever?
A whole four roast potatoes accompanied dinner, and they were on the large size too. And, guess what? They were crispy on some of the sides. These could have been the best roast potatoes that I’ve been served for a while but sadly they were somewhat uncooked on the inside.
The YP was just one of those standard manufactured affairs bought in the thousands and stuck in the oven for 4 minutes.
As I suspect, was the lamb shank. Firstly, it was suspiciously hot. You don’t get it that hot from having freshly oven-cooked it. It had been in the microwave. And I wonder if it was one of those pre-prepared affairs that simply need microwaving? Secondly, it tasted odd, too. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but it really was not what I was expecting.
At least the gravy was a reasonable home-made affair with enough consistency to be acceptable.
Am I done? I think so. Actually, I swapped some lamb for some beef with my accomplice, and the beef was much nicer than the lamb. Tender, juicy and quite pink in the middle.
Now I’m done. The highlight was, oddly, the swede. The lowlight was the odd lamb shank. It gets an Aberystwyth. Oooh just one letter out from spelling it without the spellchecker.
Overall another so-so affair that leaves me questioning why I bother. I’m going to give it a 5.9 out of 10. Had I had the beef instead, it would have scored a bit higher – I really wasn’t keen on the lamb. It just seemed so factory. And I’m not talking The Hit Factory.
Never gonna change the blog and eat desserts, you,
Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye,
But I might have to stop reviewing roast dinners.
Next week is my romantic Valentine’s roast dinner. Or I might just shank myself due to overwhelming misery.