I have often walked past this restaurant and had found its atmosphere inviting but had never found a chance to try it; Oh how I wish that was still the case.
One Monday evening I decided to finally give this place, I passed so many times a try. Upon entering a friendly staff member directed me to a table and quickly returned with my menu...
"Before continuing I feel the need to point out that of the two stars I have given this establishment one is for the friendly helpful but overworked staff"
...Where was I, oh yes reading the menu. after a quick perusal of the menu I decided on something simple a rare Sparrow sized (Small Serve) rump steak, chips and gravy. Fairly standard fare for a establishment calling itself a steakhouse.
This is when the first bout of waiting began; Laminated menu laid in front of me and a look of eager anticipation firm set upon my face. after several minutes the look of eager anticipation was spoiled somewhat by an impatient eyebrow twitch; several minutes after that my look of changed to that of mild annoyance. I looked around the room and began to wonder if a more physical display was needed; a clearing of the throat, a raise finger (not that one) or perhaps one of the oversized steak knives thrown ninja like at the large facimarly of a crocodile hanging from the roof. While I was considering the balance of said knife one of the serving staff came over, perhaps warned by some sixth sense that the beloved mascot was in danger, she apologise for the delay and took my order. added to order of steak and chips I ordered a glass of 'Coke Zero' and deciding to indulge myself a little and added a Chocolate milkshake.
So the waiting began again, despite a valiant attempt to reinstate a look of eager anticipation the best I could manage was contemplative resignation. Before the eyebrow could again begin to vent its mute frustration the 'Coke Zero' arrived sadly like many postmix drinks overly sweet. By the time the Milkshake could arrive the eyebrow was well into its silent war dance; instead of being placated somewhat by the arrival of my indulgent treat it arched in annoyance as the milkshake was placed in front of me, chocolate sauce had been smeared around the inside of glass a pretentious habit I blame on food photographers that requires you to waste time scraping it off with a straw. But now I look back I realize this might be of been a desperate attempt to distract me from lengthening delay.
The 'Coke Zero' gone; the milkshake but a distant memory and the beloved mascot again in under dire threat ,my hand only stayed by the infinitesimal chance that a ricochet could impale a fellow patron, I saw the server approaching with my plate. You must understand the vision that danced before my hungry eyes.
a roundel of rare rump steak still steaming from the grill next to it a small pile of chips crisp and golden brown next to a small pile of salad all ready to be deluged in by a gravy boat full of country style gravy.
what was placed in front of me was a roundle of steak no chips and some salad. I pointed this out to the server who apologized and rushed off to reconcile the problem. This was achieved by waving my order at the cook and pointing out it clearly said chips.
Was this the end of my saga of woe, alas no; I had my steak, I had my small pile of appealing looking chips and an appetising mixed salad to one side. Was a majestic gravy boat full of country style gravy placed before me ready to deluge across my plate? No! what was placed in front of me was an stainless steel egg cup with delusions of grandeur three quarters full of gravy. The paltry size of this doll house utensil could've been offset somewhat by its contents being of a more liquid consistency but true to its word this was thick country style gravy designed to stick to the ribs of hard working men before they returned to their toil in the fields.
taking the container between thumb and forefinger I shook it over my meal managing to get seven or eight drops of gravy which I distributed as evenly as I could between my steak and chips.
Taking the oversized steak knife in hand I sliced off a morsel of steak, next I stabbed a chip and finally I coaxed some of the salad on top I placed it in my mouth and began to chew three thing immediately became clear the chips obviously snatched almost straight from the deep fryer were hot, the steak was cold and the salad was perhaps the best thing on the plate.
But It had been an an outer piece and perhap it had cooled more so than the rest so I cut another piece repeated the process and tried again this time three new facts presented themselves. The steak was warmer; just, the rather appealing dressing on the salad was not evenly distributed and the steak was flavorless.
Several mouthfuls later that was that I left my unfinished meal on the plate, paid my bill never to return read more
