“Gastro” Food & Drink

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Mr Beau and myself, together with 3 of our 9 children (Akim, Jum & Bim) have just been on a special `Immigration Tour Excursion` in the UK as part of the package deal we got when we arranged a one-way trip in a small rubber boat to these fine shores. (Drinks not included).

We visited several establishments.

Is there nowhere left which just serves ordinary `food` and `drink`?
Instead we have `artisan` bread rolls; `hand-crafted` desserts and the `finest, professionally-selected` wines and ales.

I had a meal the other day, the meat of which had been marinated in rare mountain dew for 6 weeks and served on an eiderdown of saffron-infused pulverised potato together with a trio of 4 hand-picked vegetables.
For £95 that`s the last time I`m ordering sausage & mash from there.
And there was a vegetable missing.

oak house foods

Nominated by Sam Beau.

84 thoughts on ““Gastro” Food & Drink”

  1. Not as annoying as ‘street food’. But I catch your drift. Food for Tarquin and Arabella to put on their Instagram. Essentially paying excessive prices based upon third world shithole cuisine served from a hipster in a pop up shop.
    And what is with chips served in a galvanised bucket? Cunts.

    • ‘Street food’.

      Tastes good at the time.

      A week later, in the GP’s office, ‘I think ‘hmm, i’m going to refer you to the gastro-enterologist’.

    • You won’t catch me buying food from some hipster with a ring though her/his/their/xi’s/her’s or it’s septum. Fuck that.

  2. Basic food with fancy names,made in filthy kitchens by unhygienic people.
    Sold for a huge profit to stupid people.
    Morning all.

    Anyway Sam what’s wrong with a hot glass of bison piss these days..you’ve changed..

    • I don’t like posh food.
      I’m cursed with a poor man’s palate.

      Champagne? Rubbish.
      Caviar? Rubbish.
      And that smoked salmon butties?
      Nearly honked my ring piece up.
      Disgusting.

      I like simple fayre.
      Steak n ale pie with mash.
      Egg n chips.
      Bacon butties.
      And anything from the chippy.

      Know thyself

      • You surprise me, Mis.

        I thought for sure you’d be an artisan sourdough bloomer with bespoke, handcrafted jam person.

      • Morning JP.
        I like handmade jam, chutney and piccalilli.

        But naw.
        Only like English food.

      • You save your cultured side for garden gates and celebrity floorboards..

      • Your opinion of smoked salmon matches mine exactly Mis. Only tried it once, more than fifty years ago. I should think they would have refused it in the concentration camps.

      • Morning Arfur.

        Disgusting isn’t it?

        I kept tasting it for hours afterwards.

        Never been so repulsed by a sandwich.

      • Never saw a fat cunt in a concentration camp. Makes a mockery of the land whales who claim they are overweight as it’s ‘in my jenes’ or ‘I’m big boned’ or it’s a medical condition.

      • No one ever whistled either.

        No whistlers in a concentration camp.

      • Mr Miserable,
        So no more Poulet cru dans un sac?

        Raw chicken may be bad but I once had raw bacon hidden in a salad (in a decent restaurant).

        My body went into auto-boke mode once I had cottoned on that I was eating raw piggy wiggy.

        Rock n Roll

      • As a kid my mam ate raw sausages
        Quite common back then apparently?
        Sugar butties,
        And sheep’s brain.

        People’s stomachs were sturdier.
        Nowadays if a coffee isn’t made with fair trade milk they slip into a coma.

      • Just had steak and ale pie, mash and peas, feckin lovely………….total cost about 2 quid.

  3. Let me see? You want bread made in a bucket, desserts splurged out of a nozzle washed down with shit wine or chemical factory lager?

    I like my snap and I don’t mind a bit of effort going into it. On the odd occasion I want some cheap belly filler, there’s a greasy spoon down the road.

  4. When I was much younger and living in London it was always a pleasure to drive out to ‘the country’ to visit a village pub.

    I used to get into my Ford Capri (3 litre, obviously) with the current girlfriend and head out to Blackmore.
    There were 2 pubs but my favourite was The Leather Bottle.

    A lovely place where there would always be a few dogs sleeping contentenly in front of the roaring, open fire.

    A few pints, spread over the course of a relaxing evening.
    Not wanting to be over the limit for driving.

    They served enormous baked potatoes, smothered in mature Cheddar cheese.

    Happy times.

    Out of nostalgia I recently looked the place up on the Internet.

    It’s now a fucking gastro pub.

    I sincerely hope that one of the electric cars which will now be in the car park catches fire and burns the place down, with all the gastro cunts inside.

    Nothing is sacred.
    It seems like every wierd, trendy fucker is catered for in one way or the other, but there is nothing left for me.

    • So you had a proper car as well Art? The never ending torque from that Essex lump, the absence of pitch and roll with massive yaw available anytime. If Ford was to resurrect it my wife would be down the dealer’s with a deposit. Just as well they won’t though, half the fuckers driving today would lose it on the first bend.

      • I really knew fuck all about cars back then.
        I still don’t know much.

        The Capri was a fanny magnet and went like shit through a goose.

        That was good enough for me.

      • You are Terry McCann and I claim my free membership to the Winchester club..

    • I can remember going out to the Leather Bottle in Blackmore around1988-1993 and enjoying a couple of real ales and good pub food.
      Haven’t been for 25 years plus, so I won’t bother.
      Mrs Mitten and me out for a rare meal tonight. Vouchers given for our wedding anniversary. A former pub now fine dining in central Chelmsford. Told the missus it will be good quality but expect to still feel hungry afterwards.

    • Please tell me you smashed her on the bonnet Art whilst covered in Brut.

      Phwoaarrrrrrrrrr

  5. Splendid nom, Sam.

    Food offered with inclusive style ‘asian’ twists and takes is everywhere. Even the waiters have to be fucking exotic mixes. Worst of all is the incessant plugging of plant based alternatives. Fucking poo. Next on the horizon is insect based twists on your old favourites. ‘Saucisse de Jour’ will include ‘Lincolnshire Spicy Thai Grasshopper and Tofu.’ Fuck off, you culinary cunts.

    Good morning, everyone.

  6. Fish, chips and Scunny Guacamole. That’s as gastro as I get. Oh, with a hand crafted artisan pint of Tim Taylor’s.

  7. Mug punters love being fooled by this shit.
    ‘Fresh’ pasta (freshly rehydrated)) with a ‘rustic’ tomato sauce.
    Ingredients costs 65p.
    Yours for £13.99
    Authentic street food that is priced at restaurant prices.
    And what the fuck does ‘artisan’ actually mean in relation to food apart from hideously expensive?
    People moan about being supposedly ripped off by mechanics, builders and whatever, but gleefully pay £7.50 for a pint of traditional recipe IPA flavoured with guava.
    They deserve to get fucked over.

    • I suppose that the same can be said for coffee.

      Does anywhere in the UK actually sell coffee anymore?
      All I hear about is the likes of skinny-moccafratelato with a sprinkle of cinnamon at about 7 quid a paper cup full.

      There are only 2 ways that I have my coffee.
      Strong with milk.
      Strong without milk.
      Stick the sugar up your arse.

      And I wouldn’t pay more than 1,50 euros for either.

      • And served by highly qualified baristas, or as we call them, disinterested teenagers.

    • Field Marshall Cuntgomery, that sounds like a place in Arundel a mate of mine took his then-bird (a vegan) to.
      Pasta, tomato sauce – £12-13. I heard you pay a similar price for the same in one of Jamie Oliver’s Eyetie chain restaurants.
      Back in Southern Italy that’s what the poor rustics eat. Same with Carbonara and pizzas.

      Pizza restaurants are almost a scam.

  8. It’s all bollocks isn’t it. We went out for Sunday dinner recently, a family birthday. Bottom line is, it cost £120 for 4 beef dinners, one sweet and 3 drinks, drinks were standard beers and a shandy. It was shit, they charged £12 for two little pots of cauliflower cheese and it was ordinary at best. We can make far better at home, and the local cheap and cheerful carvery does a better job for less than half the price.

    • I once went a posh Italian restaurant.
      Missus Miserable had been mithering to try it.

      Dead fuckin expensive.

      When they brought the main meal Missus started giggling.

      MNC ” What you laughing at?”
      MM ” your face was priceless!”

      It was like a kids cereal bowl with pasta in it the robbing cunts.

      Posh spice would of asked for a few rounds of bread n butter that’s how little the portion was.

      If that’s a real Italian meal how come a lot of them are fat cunts?

      • I remember Mis, of a similar expensive place for fish and chips, that were served on one side a large plate. I’d make my lady friend laugh by making a child’s brum-brum car sound when having to travel from one end of the plate for chips, to meet up with the fish. The place always empty was the best thing about it.

      • No wonder Sammy.

        Chippy we go Is over a hundred years old and you can buy beer .
        We sit next to a stream near a church that’s over a thousand years old.

        Stoney Middleton

  9. They will never be able to mess up pie, mash, liquor and eels. It is fucking protected by fucking law. Fact.

    • I used to love Goddard’s in Greenwich.

      Sunny Sunday afternoon. Steak and kidney pie with mash and gravy, with an apple pie and custard and a can of pop for afters.

      Used to cost about £5.

  10. I blame those fat sweaty cunts James Oliver and that poof from Padstow.

    There is an Oven.

    It is not “artisinal”.

    Good morning.

    • Good morning, Unkle. I quite like the TV chef who does the fish., you know the one, Rick Moranis.

    • Morning Unkle, did you mean that swollen tongued cunt Jamie Oliver and the fucking fat cunt Stien? His fish and chips are grossly inflated, a bit like him i suppose

      Render them both in your oven please

      • We went to Padstein once had a walk around saw uncle Ricks fish and chip place £23 for a portion of fish and chips? In your fucking dreams you robbing cunt.

      • Rick Stein is a fat yid who cooks like all fat yids with too much butter and cream.

        He steals other people’s recipes and puts his own unique twist on them.
        Basically the same recipe with just more butter and cream.

        I have never seen any other cunt who could load up a fork as well as him before stuffing it into his face.

        So fat that he has had a ‘man boob’ reduction.

        I hope that he dies soon.

      • Yes them cunts.

        The younger one drools and the older one sweats a lot.

        Bad Eggs.

    • I don’t think the bloke from Padstow is a poof, he has has more top drawer tatty than the rest of us put together. Mrs. Wanksock gets moist every time he appears on the telly or would do if she hadn’t been through the change.

  11. Excellent nom, worth a read as I tuck in to my line caught, field reared, 20 day oak aged hand crafted dry smoked effically sourced bacon egg sarnie, washed down with a mug of hot builders tea. The stuff that built an empire.

  12. Small burger and 8 chips, or a Tesco lasagne, serve it on an artisanal roofing tile found in a skip down the road and charge £30. Yeah, I’ll pass.

  13. The more decadent our society has become the more we have turned to what I characterise as “Cunt Cuisine” – made by pompous, self-important cunts who have watched too much Master Chef, and consumed by cunts. It’s like Pret a’Manger – a cunt food chain with a pretentious and cuntish name serving grilled asparagus, lemon mayonnaise, pecorino and pepper baguettes at £15 a shot. What’s wrong with a bacon sandwich with brown sauce – the best sandwich ever invented.

    • ‘Pret’ is for all the bourgeois mongs who spit their dummies out over Brexit.
      They love being ripped off.

      • The type of company that would call a bacon and brown sauce sandwich “pan roasted le lard masc baguette with a brown berry and vinegar jus”.

  14. Why oh fucking why is everything spiced up now, its overtaken ordinary British food. I’m a white pure bred Englishman I dont want my beautiful British food sullied by fucking chillies and ginger and other fancy crap originally used to mask the taste of rancid food in Karachi. I also dont want my food laid on the plate to resemble an artwork, bullshit of the highest order made to accommodate cunts who sniff the cork from the wine bottle before holding it to the light and sloshing it around their gob,absolute cunts.

    • Quite right Civvydog👍

      I loathe spicy shite.

      Refuse to touch it.
      That goes for curry, chilli, and other ethnic slop.

    • I love spicy food but there’s certain things that you shouldn’t use chillies with, steak and bacon being two.
      Not a big fan of ‘fusion’ cooking. ‘Good food, buggered’, as my grandad would’ve said.

  15. My hometown gets coaches galore from all points for the ‘world famous market ‘ as they like to promote it,now don’t get me wrong it’s still a decent one but not a patch on yesteryear it’s now started to get to many food stalls and obviously they are from all points as well…🇨🇳🇲🇦🇹🇷🇮🇹🇯🇵 etc…but they can’t shift the famous bury black pudding stall, that still does a roaring trade …tradition still lives on in a small corner of 🇬🇧😁

  16. I remember a local pub was taken over by a couple who destroyed the menu. There was steak, but no chips. You could order it with pasta or butternut squash. There was also a Malaysian curry with rice. Veal schnitzel? It’s what you expect from a pub lunch.

    It’s not hard to get a pub menu right, and they had to sell up within the year.

  17. Artisan food, a huge plate of steaming stew with dumplings like icebergs.
    Dearly departed mother used to make them in the summer, didn’t need salt, sweat used to drip in it.
    Fucking magic..
    .

  18. Call me an odd ball but all I want is a big plateful of something that looks like a better prepared and higher quality version of old style school dinners. No eating off things that look like sections of blackboard and any artwork attached to the walls.

  19. I nearly got brained by my female colleagues for stating I was going home to an Oxtail stew. Cooked the day before and then reheated the next day. I didn’t make that mistake again.

  20. I am always amazed these places survive.
    My local town has a local independent bakers, with 3 outlets and also a greggs.

    In the last year two cake shops have appeared selling a slice of cheesecake or a chocolate brownie for 3 to 4 quid.

    I guarantee they will be gone in a year..
    Do some research you hipster doofus..

  21. Breakfast
    Scrambled egg and smoked salmon, fresh croissants and a glass of Bollinger

    • Leave out the smoked salmon Soi (see my post above) and that sounds an ideal breakfast as long as the croissants are real. We only have proper croissants round here when the wife makes them. I don’t count the ubiquitous commercial ones that seem to be first cousin to bump-stop rubbers.

    • Sausages
      Bacon
      Black pudding
      Fried bread
      Fried Tomato, halved
      Eggs fried in butter

    • Haven’t had a Rustler’s product in years.

      Perhaps it’s because I can cook.

  24. Street food puts me in mind of them boiled hot dog fuckers like you would get at the speedway and the football.
    Tasted alright when I were a lad pre nanny state days, but I’m fucked if I would eat one now.
    Where did the sellers wash their hands? No way would they have gone to the toilets to clean up only to return to no nosh and no cash tin. All this was pre gloves days and yes they were grubby cunts but at least they were indigenous grubby cunts so we were probably more tolerant to home grown germs than what you get nowadays off these immo fucks!

    • Used to prefer the ‘burger van/truck stop’ burgers to McDonalds. You didn’t get fried onions at Mcdonalds, and no mustard and ketchup in a catering bottle.
      Birds wouldnt eat them though. Got to have their cybernuggets from the house of Ronald.

      The doner kebab seems to have replaced it in most towns.

  25. The trouble with all this spiced up food, was it being uncomfortably hotter when having to release from the arsehole the following day.

    • That were the subject of Johnny Cash’s smash hit single,
      ‘Ringpiece of Fire’.

  26. Thai food in pubs, what’ that all about.🤔c
    What happened to chicken or scampi im a basket or even a decent ploughman’s?

      • Even the humble ploughman’s lunch has been infected by the woke cancer after a pub in Devon rebranded it as the ‘ploughperson’s’ lunch.

        My local is still pretty traditional with fish and chips, ploughman’s and landlords pie but does do Thai curries and chili con carne too.

  27. Good nom this, Sam. You’re bob on.

    I’d like to extend this cunting to drink. It’s no secret on here that I enjoy boozing – that white hot joy that comes with talking bollocks with good friends and making plans you’ll never follow through on, you cannot beat it!

    HOWEVER, why does beer now have to be craft? I love a good IPA (West Coast Is The Best Coast!) and during the winter months I become one with the Imperial Stout. But more often than not, now I find myself hankering after the simple beer. Pint of Coors or my personal favourite, Kronenburg. Cold. No airs and graces. Bosh. Love it. In fact, I might have one soon.

    The other thing that winds my donk is the social stigma of “High Strength Beer” vs. “Craft”. Nobody bats a fucking eyelid if I smash a 13% or two. If I have a tin of Special Brew (sorry, “Danish Artisanal Ale”) then the “everything alright at home, son?” questions starts.

    Wine? Not arsed. The Boss bought a bottle of reasonably expensive red t’other week. Couldn’t tell the difference between that and a £5.75 bottle of Shiraz from Sainsbury’s bottom shelf.

    • I love an imperial stout. Quality over quantity. It’s the only thing I tend to buy from the craft beer market as they tend to cater better than traditional brewers.
      Can’t stomach most of the craft pales. Smell like pine disinfectant and tend to taste like it. Odd exceptions of course.
      Rather one barrel aged 13% and take my time with it.
      Fullers used to do some great special beers but they release very few now.

      • I think Fullers was taken over by the Chîñķs.
        Youngs used to do a seasonal Winter Warmer when based in Wandworth SW London, that was really good, they got taken over by Wells and moved, the beer was never the same after that. I think Youngs drew water from the River Wandle, maybe that’s why.

  28. At my work we do something called an ‘artisan salad.’ It’s literally just greens and some other veggies with pumpkin seeds and a honey-lime dressing. Oh, and it’s £13.

    • Call it the ‘Saw-you-coming’ salad. Just remember to label the rocket as ‘Arugula’.

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