Sunday, 23 February 2014

Sunday Roast at The Roebuck

This week, SSH does a spot of guest posting because The Roebuck, where we went for Sunday Roast, happens to be in her 'hood, while I add in bits of additional commentary. Imagine I sound like David Attenborough, just... Younger and more female: 

Deciding we all needed to go for Sunday roast we were first perplexed by where exactly should we go. Luckily the decision was made to venture to The Roebuck, a pub situated neatly in my neighbourhood. The Roebuck is one of the little gems one will come across near my student housing with its daily changing menu, a quaint and homey feel, a stack of board games to play, and an ever fitting portrait of Bambi sitting on the wall.


The Roebuck was quaintly shabby-chic, the sort of watering hole that attracts the more laid-back of our species...


Being Canadian I have never had Sunday Roast, so I was extremely excited to partake in this ever so traditional British meal. While we waited for Abigail to join us we all diligently perused the menu. The Roebuck offers a plethora of options for Sunday Roast; something to please every palate and diet, but I knew that I wanted to stick with the beef option, as it seemed the most traditional out of all. Luckily if you go in big groups everyone will order something different, and it gives you the opportunity to share bites with one another (which was the case for us).


We all sat quietly as we tucked in and savored each bite, since we hadn’t eaten all day in anticipation of this meal. The beef was tender, and slightly chewy but very delicious. 


Abigail ordered the pork which came with a delightfully crackled skin that was very flavorful, and I was pleasantly surprised by the sumptuous taste of GW’s vegetarian option, which was a cheese, leek and walnut pie in a buttery and oh-so flaky crust. 


But I think we were all in agreeance that the best part of the roast (to my surprise) was the roasted vegetables! Carrots, parsnips, potatoes and cabbage roasted to perfection and drowning in the right amount of gravy to completely satisfy your taste buds!

Towards the end of the meal, a significant amount of plate shuffling occurred, as each individual picked out what they felt were the choicest morsels and passed the rest on to someone else...


Part way through our meal we were joined by a sweet, slightly kooky, older woman by the name of Anne. She kindly asked to join our table (With a cry of "Goodness me! It looks like the League of Nations here!" - I think the biggest surprise was that she mentioned that instead of the UN) and sat with us while we finished our meal. Sitting closest to Abigail, she told her of her memories of the Blitz, and claimed to have seen GW around and asked if she was a dancer. We weren’t quite sure what type of dancer she meant, but GW is certain she meant a stripper (which she is not for the record). Abigail and I decided Anne might have been a fairy of some sort there to sprinkle some cheer in a quirky way (She also insisted that I visit the Ministry of Sound, and provided extremely accurate walking instructions on how to get there from The Roebuck. Apparently she'd been there before and thought it was quite good. I didn't think it would be open at two in the afternoon though), or to remind us that an act of kindness is one of the most beautiful things we as humans can do for one another.


After almost 2 hours of stuffing ourselves to epic proportions we decided it was time to venture outside and walk around in an attempt to ease the fullness of our stomachs. All in all I have to say it was a great introduction to this Canadian’s first Sunday roast.


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