From the outside it looked like some sort of mutant beaver on steroids had taken up home here. From the inside it looked like sea world – after Free Willy had died that is. The bathrooms were especially prominent in this style of decor, if you can call it style at all.
Upon arrival we met the hostess, swapped the usual boring pleasantries and were shown to our royal blue seats.
Unimpressed with the exterior but relaxed and calm from the ducks in the park we set to order. The menu was pricey so we were expecting something extraordinary. Drinks first….as per usual.
They were out of kale, cucumber, spinach and apple juice so we had to settle for beetroot, carrot, celery and lettuce. For £4.50 I expected a tall glass with ice and maybe for it to be a love potion but I got one of those boxy glasses that were probably designed for Irish measures of vodka. This was not going to quench my thirst. And why was this drink so sweet? It had no hint of earthy beetroot in it. If I am going to spend my 50g of daily sugar allowance on something it definitely wouldn’t be over zealous purple syrup. Despite this traumatic experience I ordered another one, not sure why. I was probably confused from the sugar overload.
The bircher muesli coated my teeth with an electric sugarfuzz which was completely inappropriate for breakfast, it had so much sugar in it that I decided to stop before the type 2 diabetes took me there and then. There was no hint of a raspberry ripple amongst the sucrose sludge. If I was five I would’ve cried. If you are promised a raspberry ripple you should deliver on that raspberry ripple. Period.
The beans in the full English could’ve been delicious but the best they could’ve been described as was ambitious. Being ‘spiced’ they were definitely trying anyway. God loves a trier after all but I’m not even sure God could have loved those bad boys. I surely didn’t.
As for the mushrooms, I may as well have went out to the park, dug up a few slugs and sprinkled a bit of salt and pepper on them. Would have looked the same. Would have tasted the same. The slugs might’ve been a bit warmer.
Surely you can’t go wrong with a fruit salad, but they did, where were the spiced pears? The fruit was well cut. But then again who can’t cut up fruit? The grilled tomatoes on the side were grand. But to be fair you can’t go wrong with a grilled tomato. They were well seasoned.
The light bowls (bircher muesli and fruit salad) were inappropriately labelled ‘light’ and once again overpriced. Had inflation suddenly gone up between my tube journey there and my merry walk through the park?
Being a key tourist area, this place is a reflection on our country for God’s sake. You don’t want Timmy the tourist going home and telling his Mum that the English can’t cook their beans. What terrible publicity. Can David Cameron sort this out? They will probably always get traffic but I doubt many locals would make a return visit which is a shame.
The interior designer should’ve gone to Specsavers and I should’ve went to McDonalds. In fact I never did find out what that black scum was on the bathroom floor…