Having been unsure of where to go for dinner on saturday night in Broadstairs, my 4 friends and I…read moreopted for Bread & Roses. We arrived at roughly 7:15pm tempted in by the inviting black board offering fresh and home made classics in what appeared to be a lovely, homely setting. On being sat at one of rougly 10 tables, we were informed by our personable young waiter that we had come at just the right time as the restaurant would usually fill up in no time at all Flicking though the menu of simple and tasty sounding staples, we opted for an excellent 2008 organic Chenin Blanc from S.Africa, well priced at £18.50. The waiter then informed us of the extensive list of specials, mainly fish that had been caught locally. My partner opted for a salad of avocado and bacon for starter. Our two friends both plumbed for the Duck's liver parfait and I went for soup of the day, which I was informed was tomato & Basil served with crusty bread. For mains, we ordered grilled sardines (twice), dover sole and I went for whole turbot. Having had a long day walking along the coast in the Kent sunshine, this seemed like the perfect place to end a wonderful day before catching the 21:57 back to London. Slowly the restaurant started to fill up around us around us. A large group of around 8 took up there reserved table near by as did a number of other 8pm'ers. Having been happily nattering through the day's events, we hardly noticed that the starters were yet to arrive. Eventually, they did.. The Parfait was a generous slice of deep sweet duck liver, served with a small pot of onion chutney with (rather disappointingly) two slices of wholemeal sliced supermarket style bread.. A mere blip I thought..Next my partners salad arrived; a tiny oval plate crowded with masses of lettace leaf, hiding some ungainly chunks of avocado with bacon, that rather than being chopped into little pieces looked like it had been through a shredder! Too much haist in that there kitchen.. and alas, unseasoned!! When my soup arrived, I was right to fear the worst.. A deep red soup with tiny flakes of basil were disguised as homemade by the swirl of cream that sat on top of the soup. On first taste, I instantly recognised the familiar flavour attacking my taste buds.. I put all my emphasis on instantly when I tell you the familiar nature of the soup!! The young waiter then left us, too hungry/polite to complain, to get on with the starter. Expecting the homemade crusty bread that had been a much heralded accompaniment to both my soup and my partner's salad would be moments away, I waved the waiter over after realising it was not forecoming.. I'll check with the kitchen our waiter announced, looking increasingly flustered, he returned moments later and declared sorry about this but the kitchen forgot your bread.. Oh I responded a little baffled well, can you get it from them?. But sir, they cook it freshly with each order, now I was really thrown, this simply didnt add up as I tried to calculated the bread cooking time vs starter prep.. but I'll ask them to put some on now.. OK, thanks I replied, still somewhat confused. As I got toward the end of my bowl of instant soup, the bread arrived for my partner and I.. It was at this point that I realised what cook it freshly actually translated for in the world outside of Bread and Roses, the translation was again homage to the supermarket, this time a part bake at home baton. Clearly, rushed and anemic looking, sat unhappily in a basket waiting to be torn apart. The part dough-part bread experiance at least helped what was to come ie, not much.. I was starting to get that sinking feeling as our plates were cleared.. Surely not, I thought, somewhere that promises so much can't be this bad. I stayed silent to keep the mood up, kind of like a child that knows father christmas isnt real but doesnt want to kill the illusion for mum and dad. I remember that time well and was starting to get that feeling again! 10 minutes passed and my sprits (with a little help from the vino) began to pick up. they're just grilling fish I pondered, that's easy enough & its going to be spendid when it arrives.. half an our passed by and I could help but notice things getting slighly out of hand. I could hear unhappy dinners and apologetic staff. The four or so tables that had arrived way after us were being served mains.. It all was decending into chaos. I nervously check my watch. It was 9pm.. Ok, I thought, plenty of time to eat our fishy treats and dash to the station. Our now apologising parrot of a waiter returned. things have been a bit manic in the kitchen he conceded, but it wont be long now He reassured us. I pointed out that the last train left in under an hour leaving us stranded were we to miss it oh, dont worry about that, you'll be finished in good time he lied. A further 15 minutes lapsed and the mood at the table was distinctly uneasy.. Brave faces were kept by all, our waiter included as he declared 5-10 mins now guys,