… and no of course I don’t mean I personally roasted in the
blistering heat of a typical English summer (small pause while I roll on the
floor laughing at my own joke … hey if I don’t who will??) … and now back to
today’s topic.
There’s no doubt Roast has a great location, with the wonderful
urbanism of trains rolling by at eye level, and its pretty much unique of
position of being the only place you can have a “corporate power breakfast” on
the south side of London Bridge … but does it live up to its own publicity of great
food built on excellent quality British produce and the national meal … “Sunday
roast”.
So … get to the point Ted … how was Roast?. Well … Treasures … the food either side of
the main event was very good. Portland crab cakes with cucumber and horseradish
gazpacho, pickled radish, and apple was a very nicely executed tasty textural
affair. Next the piece du resistance … the “roast” and I chose pork belly with
Bramley apple sauce. I wish I’d come earlier in the day when the
crackling would have still been crisp, and the roast potatoes weren’t so hard on the outside that the
fluffiness inside wasn't just too much hard work to appreciate. My Kent cherry choux
bun with yogurt ice cream was a perfectly balanced affair … the recommended wine choice wasn’t …
Roast will endure and for good reason – the service is good,
the food is good, the location is great, and the breakfasting and lunching out
of towners love it … business logic not to be sneezed at … even in hay fever season.
5 comments:
It is 11.29 now here in Norway.
I wish I could have popped over to London or anywhere in England for a nice tasty Sunday Lunch in a pub.
Your posting made me hungry.
I can nearly SMELL the food all the way over here.
HAPPY SUNDAY to YOU & TED.
Sounds like a wonderful place with good delicious food. I'm off to eat now :)
Your Sunday blog posts are a sure-fire way to get the old appetite kicking in. I wonder what I've got that I can roast up this morning.
It sounds like it'll definitely stay in business.
Drool . . . Love Borough Market.
And let's not mention Trump . . .
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