Roast Dinners in London

Hey cow fans, it was a drizzly January day and time for a roast dinner at The Gardeners in Southfields.

But first, would you like to see the 45 milkmaid dresses that will make ANY man weak in the knees?

Yes, it will be ANY man because there are no gay men in Evie’s world, and don’t even think about alternative genders…

Oh, sorry, you need to sign up and none of my 18 different e-mail addresses are going in that box.

Oh, sorry, it looks like I was wrong about the gay people not being a thing in Evie’s world, because porn makes you gay.

LITERALLY.

Possibly Nicole Dominique should put on her best milkmaid dress and understand the definition of literally, the meaning of causation, and the reasons why polls can give skewed answers.

And guys (straight ones), we are all uglier because of vinyl flooring (and probably other things I didn’t read, like woke). Apparently I’m allowed to read that article without signing up. I’m not linking to it because…yuck.

I’m A Victoria’s Secret Angels Trainer. Here Are 5 Insights For Getting Roast Dinner Ready

Isn’t coming to read this roast dinner blog such an education? Obviously not as good as a 1950’s American education.

Yeah I’m having one of those let’s try not to mention The Moron posts.

This is a milkmaid dress, apparently:

Consider my knees a-trembling.

Speaking of going weak at the knees, it was time to get on a tram to Wimbledon, then a train to Southfields to see if I would end up horny enough to pour gravy on my nipples in what is apparently a majestic, traditional pub, The Gardeners in Southfields.

Traditional – yes, majestic, hmmm not so sure. The Gardeners did have a homely kind of vibe to it, it felt like a family-run pub, with a horseshoe bar in the middle, cream/team walls, chairs that looked like my mother could have ordered them off QVC – and curtains. Do pubs normally have curtains? This is the 359th roast dinner review in London and I’ve no idea if pubs normally have curtains.

I Always Say Yes When My Husband Asks For Roast Dinner. Here’s Why.

Also would a trad-wife be that bad? Like, maybe a Latina trad-wife from Columbia. Perhaps she can clean the flat whilst I write more features for this website?

And whoa, Latina trad-wife in milkmaid dress:

Hang on, is she over 18?

Better check with Grok:

Phew, well it must be true then. Where was I?

Oh yeah, Southfields. There were no women in milkmaid dresses. Probably. I didn’t look. I’m still not entirely sure what is a milkmaid dress and what isn’t a milkmaid dress but I might spend the upcoming summer going up to women and asking if they work on a farm.

What Men Think About During Roast Dinner Vs. What Women Think About: 9 Surprising Differences

Menu?

Options were rump of beef at £20.50, chicken with stuffing and pig in blanket for £19.50, or pork loin for £19.00.

One might expect me to have ordered the rump of beef to keep in theme, but I’m stuffing deprived – having not received the expected stuffing on the roast dinner last Sunday, having also not received the expected stuffing ball at Collab on NYE for the Christmas sandwich, and my mother threatening not to make stuffing at Christmas (she relented, and I will go visit for Christmas in 2026).

So I ordered the chicken at £19.50 – two weeks in a row that I’ve had a sub-£20 roast dinner. That ain’t going to continue, is it?

It took a little while to arrive, maybe 20-25 minutes – though it tends to feel loner when solo dining (I did mean to type longer, but the typo amused me when proof-reading). No, I’m not miserable, I just cannot be arsed to socialise.

Starting with the carrots which were unusually floppy (oh why am I trying not to mention him), roasted and soft. No particular flavour – but pleasant enough. Unusually hot though.

The Life-Changing Roast Dinners Women Aren’t Being Given Anymore

Next up was the parsnip, which tasted a bit burnt really.

There was a medley of cabbage and green beans – all pretty unremarkable, a little seasoning on the cabbage but not much, and otherwise acceptable – neither stonking nor stinking.

Creamed leeks were the pick of the bunch for the vegetables – not much cream, but enough for a little gloriousness on the tongue.

Roast potatoes were a mixed bunch – there were 5 of them, plus a tiny chunk. Two were chewy and had “last week” vibes to them. Two of them were much fresher, with crispy sides and soft insides – good but not quite perfect. One was more middling. Some evidence of herbs and seasoning – had I received just the good batch then praises would be sung more roundly.

The Yorkshire pudding was actually good. Shocker in London nowadays, I blame Sadiq Khan. Not sure why. Either him or Zohran Mamdani are clearly to blame. Not sure why. Anyway, this was a proper homely Yorkshire pudding, like my mother would have made back in the day before Aunt Bessie was a thing. Though it’s Waitrose Yorkshire puddings nowadays. That’ll be the pension triple lock for you. Oh yeah, so the yorkie was soft and fluffy, with a little crispness around the top – pretty damn good work.

The enlarged chicken breast with bone, was sliced in half for some reason. The juicier part was near the bone – the breast just a tad dry, nothing much, and generally it was pretty plump.

63% Of Roast Dinners Feel Unloved And No One Wants To Ask Why

So…did my stuffing ball arrive?

But first, do you want to play a game of which AI model makes the best images of a stuffing ball in a milkmaid dress. That isn’t a question. You are playing it.

Number 3 can literally be my wife, if watching porn hasn’t literally made me gay.

Oh and yes – the stuffing ball made it onto my plate! Apparently it was lemon and tarragon flavour – I cannot say I noticed the latter, perhaps I noted the lemon, just about. Crispy outsides, a little stodgy inside but I say that with kindness and love. For my new wife.

The pig in blanket was top notch work – a proper herby sausage wrapped in crispy, streaky bacon. The highlight of the roast dinner.

And finally the gravy, though not especially flavoursome was at least proper gravy. And there was enough of it.

The Gardeners

So The Gardeners seems to be a family-style pub, doing a mother-style roast dinner.

There’s definitely areas for improvement – vegetables could have had more flavour/seasoning, all the roast potatoes could have been from the good batch, again the chicken could have had more flavour too.

But they got plenty right – one of the better Yorkshire puddings, that was top notch. A punchy pig in blanket – and most things seemed freshly cooked. There was more to compliment than criticise this week – if you live in the area (and it is better than all but one roast dinner I’ve had in Wimbledon too), then The Gardeners is definitely worth a visit for a roast.

Service was friendly, and the beer selection was boring enough not to tempt me out of Dry January.

Overall my score is a milking-tastic 7.39 out of 10.

I’ll be back on duty next Sunday.

Unless I move to the countryside with my dream wife.

Answers to the quiz:

1. Grok, 2. ChatGPT, 3. Gemini, 4. Claude.