For me there is nothing better than going to a pub on a Sunday and having a few pints and a great Sunday roast. For me it’s part of being English. Nearly every Sunday for the first 22 years of my life, (until I started travelling) I always had a roast on a Sunday. Well 99% of the time anyhows.
It’s one of the things that I miss when I am travelling in other parts of the world. Although it’s not something I would have abroad. “As when in Rome.” But when I am here in England, it’s something that I want. It’s a reminder of days gone past. I have good memories spending Sundays with my family sitting around the table, eating, and talking. My Nan used to bring over (most weeks) pudding. Her rhubarb crumble is still the best I have ever eaten. I used to always order it in restaurants, but they were never as good as my Nans. So I stopped.
So a Sunday Roast is natural for me, and many other people, like an Argentine Asado. It brings people together. It’s something I missed in Colombia. We cooked a few roasts but in a small portable oven, it wasn’t easy but we kinda managed it. Not fantastic, but they were ok.
So, on our first Sunday back, I cooked some roast lamb for 7 people. Nothing kinda beats a home cooked roast, but sometimes it’s nice to go out to a pub and have it all done for you.
The Bull on Upper Street is not well known for its food, but we have had roasts there on many an occasion, but over time things went downhill. It was taken over by a pub chain, and I think the boil in the bag catering services took over. You can always tell that when on the bottom of a menu it reads, “Some of our dishes may contain nuts.” You’d know for sure if you cooked it your own kitchen.
But it has a good atmosphere, good selection of beers, and it was close to where we once used to live. But after this Sunday lunchtime meal, I don’t think we’ll eat there again.
I’m still kinda angry actually, as I only got 1½ roast potatoes. How can you as a chef/cook give someone 1½ roast potatoes? I was going to complain, but then that would only put me in a crap mood for the rest of the day.
All in all it was a pretty pants meal. My beef was over cooked and dry. The horseradish sauce was quite weak. Obviously out of a jar. The Yorkshire pudding looked like a pre made Aunt Bessie, but not as nice. The only good thing was the diced carrots and parsnips, they weren’t like mush, as you’d expect. They had some bite to them. Amazing. At least they gave me some gravy.
Linas lamb that I tasted only tasted of the mint sauce I dabbed on it. She had 2 good sized potatoes though. Maybe the cook took a disliking to me when I ordered. Who knows.
As we walked out I noticed everyone who was eating a roast had 3 potatoes. I think everyone must had thought I had lost my mind, as I was loudly mumbling about 1½ potatoes and the like. As you can see madness is starting to creep in.
Let’s hope the next roast is better than this bad attempt at a simple meal.