Roast Dinners in London

The king of the north is back, Lord Gravy – with a re-review of The Footman in Mayfair.

Everyone knows that roast dinners aren’t working.

Everyone can feel that the roast potatoes aren’t where they should be. Tonight could, just could, be the turning point.

From here on I will give everything I have got to make it so. To ensure the name Lord Gravy is forever synonymous with bringing about the roast potatoes this country needs, bringing back something we’ve lost – hope – hope for the future of roast dinners.

Hang on…hydration break.

I spoke in the campaign about the need to change roast dinners.

I promised to lead by example, from the front, as your roast dinner reviewing parliament.

Hydration break.

Stick My Foot In It

But I do say to my own roast dinners: this is a final chance to change.

This is what people said directly to me on the hundreds of doorsteps that I stood on. We must hear it, we must act upon it and we must get it right. There will be no second chance.

Time for a hydration break…

But there is a chance now from this result tonight to build a new roast dinner based on unity and hope. Turning away from the path that takes us to a divided, dark roast dinner of the kind we see in the Roast Dinner Triangle Of Doom.

People here have voted for roast dinners. They have voted for more roast potatoes for the North and everywhere forgotten by Westminster.

They have voted for hope. Now, let’s give that back to…hydration break:

Signed up yet?

Get Off On The Wrong Foot

This table is small for two people, no?

The wise amongst you probably know where this review is going, not only from the featured image at the top, but the fact that it is a re-review.

My occasional re-reviews are when I don’t think a place deserves a score from many years ago. The Footman has had a score of 8.15 out of 10.

I was on the understanding that The Footman had gone down in quality.

SLUDGE.

Andy Burnham wouldn’t stand for this. Andy Burnham will fix roast dinners. Andy Burnham is our saviour.

Hydration break?

That’s a hint by the way. Sign up.

Get A Foot In The Door. Not This Door Though.

Last time I went in 2018, I said that the “pork belly was magnificent, gravy was proper gravy and some of the best roast potatoes ever.”.

Alas I couldn’t eat much of it because I’d been to a wedding the day before. A fun wedding. A very fun wedding. I’d had no sleep, 3 trains, a rail replacement bus, two tubes and then arrived for one of the best roast dinners of the year for which my mouth refused to participate.

8 years later, I’m back…and…

SLUDGE.

It was a hot day with a slightly scary 39’C heatwave approaching. Would I eat a roast dinner if the 39’C heatwave had arrived in time? Hydration break?

Yes, of course I would.

There was a Tiny Rebel beer on, so it could have been worse – though otherwise everything was bang average beer-wise. It is central London – a craft beer desert the likes of which even Doncaster would be ashamed of. Probably the beer choice was worse in 2018, but I doubt I cared by that stage.

On the menu was beef rump at £26.50, lemon and thyme chicken at £26.50, mushroom and spinach strudel at £22.00, saddle of lamb at £27.00 or pork loin at £23.50.

So, I don’t eat beef in this country now because of Japan, chicken I had last week – I asked the bar staff which between pork and lamb, and ended up with pork.

Footloose And Fancy Free. But Don’t Fancy This Roast Dinner Again.

Actually, I lied. I had beef.

Does biltong count?

Actually I lied again (enough to be elected?) and had beef:

It was from a Japanese restaurant, ROKA.

And no. It was nowhere near as good as the beef in Japan.

HYDRATION BREAK.

Swept Off Your Feet. By How Dry The Pork Was.

You know what else wasn’t as good as previous experiences?

So the carrot didn’t really taste of anything other than carrot. Which I guess is fine.

The kale was chopped and mostly soft, though the stalks had more crunch. They tasted of the jus. I didn’t like the jus. I shall come back to the jus. For the many.

Then there was that tiny pile of weird grey sludge which tasted worse than it looked – fruity and burnt. What the fuck was this?

Miraculously the roast potatoes had been freshly cooked. No crispy sides – there had been no chuffing, nor did they seem like good potatoes to make roasties out of – but freshly cooked is a win in roast potato world. At least until Andy Burnham fixes everything. Do you think he’ll do HS2 to Manchester?

Do we need a hydration break?

One Foot In The Gravy

The Yorkshire pudding was also decent enough. Again freshly cooked, also mercifully small.

Onto the pork loin. Firstly – enforced condiment. I SHOULD CHOOSE IF I WANT CONDIMENT ON MY MEAT. Even worse, it was on top of the disgusting grey sludge.

So last Sunday I had dry as fuck chicken – this Sunday I had dry as fuck pork.

This was truly turgid, so so so dry. The fatty part was quite nice – the crackling was just rubber and totally inedible.

My accomplice had the lamb, which was better. But pretty basic.

Finally, I didn’t like the watery jus – the oily sheen settled in places, and it tasted tomato-ish, even fruity. Absolutely not for me.

The Footman

Well, I guess in these days of having the world’s first trillionaire, it’s refreshing to know that a Mayfair pub has a fairly shit roast dinner.

Perhaps Elon Musk might want to visit The Footman the next time he’s in London – as long as he doesn’t read this to put him off. Albeit there is no white supremacist material in here, so there is no reason for him to be on this website.

What did I enjoy? The Tiny Rebel beer was refreshing in the heat, and the roast potatoes and yorkie were both freshly cooked.

The pork was abominable, the jus was horrid and the sludge…was that even food?

My accomplice’s score for The Footman is a 5.43, and mine is a 4.99 out of 10.

I’ll be back next week, assuming I survive the upcoming heatwave – and it’s an evening roast dinner that is planned. Wish me luck.

Hydration break?

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