“In a quiet and leafy part of Islington”, this “lovely” boozer is famous for its “wonderful” garden; otherwise, though, it’s pretty ordinary – service can be “slow”, and the food is only “moderately good”.
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A review of a pub where “the menu is full of family favourites, such as potted shrimps, game pie and slow-roast pork hock, as well as bar snacks such as chip butties and pork crackling”. “By rights, it should be nestled in a valley, smoke puffing from chimney, tractor in the car park. Instead, it’s in the backstreets of Islington, albeit with a rear garden for al-fresco dining.”
Giles starts by setting the record straight about Gordon Ramsay, who “recently had a go at restaurant critics in general, and me in particular, because we do not have ‘qualifications for the job’”. “Who on earth”, Coren fairly enquires, “would sign up for a vocational course in a profession which supports no more than half a dozen jobs worth having, nationwide, of which none is likely to become available for many years”. He then goes on to consider the critical barbs his literary endeavours, and he himself, have sometimes suffered.