We arrived just after 12.00; Malpoet hit the beer straightaway - a very pale Wainwright Bitter - but as I still had a slight hangover from the previous night I started with a mug of decaff (don't ask!) Cappuccino which hit the spot. The others weren't due until 12.30. I'm not personally a joiner of clubs or societies, although I would describe myself as a fellow-traveller of the Libertarians: the belief in less bureaucracy, an end to wasted public money, an emphasis on individuals accepting responsibility for their own actions..........
The next to arrive, Rick, apologised for ordering food before he even sat down - on the train Mal and I had eaten some home-cooked ham and mustard butties I'd brought from home. Rick's tea came continental-style: a bag on the end of a silly little string like a tampon - I do hate that! His Full English Breakfast - at £6.50, as he said, not cheap - took an age to arrive although the bar was still relatively quiet. When it did come though, it certainly looked the business! The sausages, particularly, seemed well above average; my only quibble was the inclusion of hash browns. I always want to shriek at the top of my voice, "They're not bloody English!" When we came to order, a little later, I was tempted to follow suit but, in the end, was more tempted by the Danish dishes on the menu. When in Rome, etc!
The gravadlax was everything it promised to be: piquant, garnished with capers and two generous spears of asparagus – it is just me or does everyone’s wee smell strange after asparagus? Not a bad price for the area at £5.95, plus chips at £1.20.
Mal opted for a rack of ribs which had a lovely Chinese aroma – rather than the vinegary accompaniment to American-style ones. They tasted pretty good, though a little on the dry side for my liking. Perhaps slightly over-the-top at £8.95?
Bar service throughout was "laid-back" - I'd graduated on to Pimms @ £3.50 a glass (or £19.00 a jug), mixed with ample mint leaves and cucumber - but what was noticeably poor was attention to clearing of the tables; despite several members of staff milling round, coming and going aimlessly, dirty glasses were allowed to accumulate on not just our table; and in the end I put my used dinner plate on the next table....
Towards the end of the meeting the sun came out – with a huge glass frontage, it was akin to sitting inside a greenhouse – so the three of us who were left repaired to “The Secret Garden” (I’m not even going to attempt its Danish name) to finish our drinks leisurely.
I might try the Wainwrights Bitter next time……
