Roast Dinners in London

Back to writing my own history and this week I was in Greenwich, at The Duke Of Greenwich.

Well I think we are the point where I can moan about the Labour government without a lynch mob turning up.

Higher inflation, higher taxes on business, higher unemployment, higher benefits, higher spending, higher debt. Ahhhh the Labour Party is definitely in charge.

But there is a cure:

Yep, we can cure our ills by making vegetables sexy again.

You know what this calls for…

Dear Artificial Intelligence,

Hmmm maybe not.

Unless…unless there is finally a use case for Elon Musk?

Ah yeah, ICE are only going after Latinos in America right now.

The Duke Of Greenwich Is Mean

Speaking of sexy, I recently went on my first date since we officially left the EU, and I managed not to drink 5 pints or talk about Brexit for an hour.

Brexit was mentioned, of course.

Even more of course, I was stuck on a train outside of Croydon for 50 minutes on my way to my first date since Trump won his 11th election and China didn’t accidently release a virus from a lab. OF COURSE I WAS LATE DUE TO TRAINS.

Anyway. Roast dinner. Who gives a stuff about the adventures of Lord Gravy. By the way, I have started a newsletter and this sentence is probably the only time I’m going to promote it because mostly I cannot be arsed to promote this blog, I just like writing shit and don’t care if anyone reads it, in much the same way that I don’t care about dating, I just like swiping and having that vague hope that maybe…nah.

I do like beer though.

Mean Time Beer Is Crap. Is It Still A Thing?

As a pub, The Duke Of Greenwich ticked a lot of my boxes. Most of them, in fact – independently owned with a very good list of craft beers for sale from (I think only) London breweries.

Staff were really welcoming and edgily rather attractive, it was a modern-looking pub, had a good-sized garden. With the right group, this is proper Sunday Funday vibes.

Yet…there was a Sunday roast problem.

Granted there are worse problems in the world like new potatoes or Benjamin Netanyahu, but if I wanted more than one meat, I’d go to a Toby Carvery.

Yet The Duke Of Wellington was allowing me to either have two meats or none. Why?

I decided that I was probably being too woke and therefore I should demand every single type of meat possible. Plus I don’t particularly want to be awkward – the chef and/or management have decided this was their vibe, so be it. Who am I to demand they meat my criteria of just one meet on a Sunday roast.

It was even enough to make me consider the vegetarian – some squash and pearl barley thing at £20.00 (I think). But yeah, I just succumbed to the BBQ bullying of having every meat possible, which was beef brisket and chicken, at £27.00.

I’ll Show You A Mean Time

It was one of those sharing platter shebangs, so blame me for the presentation on the plate.

Actually you already know that it was a sharing platter as I’ve moaned about that a few sentences back.

So starting with the carrots which were mostly of the orange variety, though with a couple of yellow ones, these were really nice, stripped into batons with fennel seeds – and I do love a bit of fennel.

The cabbage I wasn’t so keen on. It had been on the BBQ which should work for Hispi cabbage, yet it just looked overly wilted and soggy. On the flipside, it tasted pretty smoky and was still fun to eat.

What’s more important, looks or content? Well, my experience of dating apps would suggest looks. And let’s face it, if anyone is reading this dirge, you aren’t judging this on taste either.

Mean Time, Green Time, Fuck Off Elon Musk Time

My accomplice decided to take advantage of the offer of unlimited sides, and had about 15 roast potatoes. Maybe it was 14, maybe it was 16. I did manage a fourth, but more out of boredom.

Yes, it is that time of year where good roasting potatoes are harder to find (though somehow I can still order them on Ocado), these were a bit chewy and felt more like they’d been deep fried – at least tasted that way.

The Yorkshire pudding was a bit burnt, my accomplice’s even more so, and of a more tearable texture. Whilst I’ve had worse, this was below par.

The beef brisket was as superb as I had hoped. Really smokey, properly melt in your mouth with some nice charred ends. I’d had a stunning bit of beef brisket at The Larkshall in Chingford the other week, and this is a close second. If only there was more of it. If only I didn’t also had to have another meat.

Chicken doesn’t work anywhere near as well on a BBQ as beef brisket does, but this doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. However (a however to my however), it was a little undercooked – closer to the bone I didn’t quite dare to eat all of it. The smokiness was excellent, the skin full of flavour and it seemed like there was some kind of rub on it, though I couldn’t work what it was exactly.

Finally, the gravy, of which I didn’t really know what to make of it. It was flavoursome, a bone marrow gravy and quite punchy – though was also quite on the watery side. Also I think the smokiness of the meats (which I loved) also overshadowed it.

Am I allowed to be neutral on the gravy?

The Duke Of Greenwich

Yes I would have enjoyed it more with just one meat. Specifically the beef brisket.

So it was a mixed roast dinner, I totally loved the sexy as fuck beef brisket, and delighted that given the government have said that vegetables need to be more appealing that the beef brisket was the sexiest thing on my plate. However the fennel carrots were pretty ace too.

The chicken was a bit undercooked, the yorkie a bit burnt and the roast potatoes a bit chewy, but nothing was that bad overall.

Oh yeah, so it was lovely to meet me but there was no spark. But also…she regularly goes to her local pub on a Sunday, yet had never had their Sunday roast, so there might have been a problem there.

Anyway, I’ve now discovered the delights of Chatubate.

Apparently it’s a website where you can watch occasionally scantilly clothed young women picking their nails.

Or typing on a keyboard.

Well, it’s not like London is overburdened with hot Spanish women since Brexit.

Oh and a score? Well she’s pretty hot, has beautiful…oh the roast. Yeah, erm, my accomplice scored his a 7.95 out of 10.

And my score is a 7.40 out of 10. It’s the best roast dinner I’ve had in Greenwich, though only the 3rd one I’ve had in Greenwich. And I do stress how much I liked the pub itself – if I lived in the area I’d love to have The Duke Of Greenwich as my local.

I’ll be back next week and we’re going to a recommendation from AI. That is, if I have any money left after the next 7 days of staring at women on Chaturbate, hmmm hot Colombian women typing on a keyboard.

I’m going back to watching a hot Latino babe in her lingerie drink a cup of tea.