vegster
Sanity Clause
- May 5, 2008
- 28,272
The worst...WORST food experience is when your juices are running high and the expectation of a glorious rare beef roast is almost unbearable ... then up comes that thin , mucked-about-with, pre-cooked-days-ago, GREY, GREY, GREY slices of beef. Bloody 'orrible
Never understood all that rubbish about roast Beef having to be cooked rare.
Mrs V and her family will mostly eat anything and everything but if ever we are out in a pub new to us and they are offering " rare Roast Beef " the whole family goes in to a clucking debate of should they go for the Beef or not , "But what not if it's not rare ? " is the inevitable question. Cue hand wringing and angst as one decides to go for it and the others worry about whether its going to be better than their roast Lamb or slow cooked Pork Belly. Next step is for one of them to approach the bar in an obvious nervous and agitated condition and try to ask an already overworked, under stress barman " Is the Beef really cooked rare and just pink ?" to which the barman will reply " yes, I think so "
This answer is completely unacceptable to the now confused and increasingly agitated family. What if one plumps for it and it's pink and " Gorgeous" and and the others have gone for the Pork Belly and it's only " quite nice " ? There will be a 5 minute debate and further inquiries need to be made. This will necessitate another trip to the bar in order to get access to the chef, already hard at work and under pressure to be asked " is your Beef really cooked rare ?" To which the stock reply is "Yes "
Meanwhile the pub is filling up and the roast orders are flying in and every delay may mean the one of the 4 staple roasts may be gone soon ( usually lamb, my favourite )and so now the pressure is really on to make that decision and yet still they flounder, after what seems an eternity they all plump for the Beef. with a resigned look. I order the Lamb or Pork or Chicken, all equally glorious in their own way and three out of four of us await with trepidation. It's a Sunday roast after all, innit ?
Inevitably there is an autopsy after the feast to which the Beef eaters all say " well, it was alright but not brilliant " and when asked about my choice, I reply " Scrummy !"
This is always the scenario somewhere in Brighton every Sunday, so if you see three agitated people squawking about Beef with one laid back chap rolling his eyes pop over and say hello.