How The Cock Inn, Ringmer, restored my faith in pub food and not-at-home Sunday roasts.
Some people reading my writings about food might think I’m a bit of a food snob. I can see how that might be misconstrued, so here’s something that might redress the balance.
15th September 2008: It was a Monday evening in Brighton, it was getting late for dinner, and we fancied sushi. Moshi Moshi would have been our usual destination, but being closed on Mondays we remembered YO! Sushi in Jubilee Street and decided to give it a try. Perhaps a little glimpse at the competition might […]
… or how a friend’s 21st birthday party was ruined by Brewer’s Fayre and Whitbread plc at the Nevill Crest and Gun in Eridge, near Tunbridge Wells, Kent.
£6 for a sandwich. No, this isn’t one of those posh sandwiches where you can hardly get your face around the thing which is held together with a cocktail stick with a chef’s hat on, where its gourmet credentials are incontrovertible and where the experience leaves you with a smile on your face for days. […]
As Homer Simpson once said, “I know they’re all God’s creatures, but why did he have to make them all so tasty!?”. I like eating dead animals. However they taste much better if they were happy animals during life.