Sunday roast to me means the ultimate comfort. Done right, it takes me back to Sundays at my gran’s, with my entire family around the table, competing with my uncle to see who can eat the most Yorkshire puddings — it was me, every time.
The metropolitan roast dinner is a little different. Its classy, high-quality, and instagrammable. Rather than the all you can eat pregnancy pants you take to your nan’s, you probably dress up a bit for the city roast.
I tried, but I had a raging hangover, so, bedecked in my “nice jumper”, I headed to Abode, not sure if my queasy tummy was ready for what was about to be put in front of me.
Originally, my boyfriend and I were booked on for the all you can drink prosecco meal deal, for £25 you can get as sloshed as you like. Needless to say, I wasn’t in the mood for that; nor the blaring music, so we asked to sit in the downstairs dining room. This was empty at 3 in the afternoon — perhaps a little late for the lunch rush.
It’s not quite the most romantic of atmospheres when it’s just you, your date, and the guy awkwardly cleaning glasses. Nevertheless, the staff were very accommodating and attentive, particularly aforementioned awkward guy who chatted to us when grabbing our plates at the end of the meal.
I’d never previously bought into the hair of the dog myth, but since there was a nice looking cocktail bar behind me, I ordered a Bloody Mary, spicy, and was very impressed with the results. The cocktail seemed perfectly balanced, and within about ten minutes of drinking it, my queasiness subsided and I realised just how famished I actually was.
And thank goodness, because they brought out our roasts, accompanied with a giant Yorkshire, and various little pots; braised red cabbage, truffle cauliflower cheese, green beans, carrot, swede purée, roasted potatoes.
The best part, though, was the meat; a choice of lamb or beef, or mushroom pie for the veggies. I had the lamb, it was cut so thin, almost carpaccio style, but still deliciously tender. My only qualms were with the Yorkshire pudding and the cauli-cheese.
While big bubbly Yorkshires have a great aesthetic, the top sections are dry, lacking in flavour and have a texture I can only imagine would be like ash. In my opinion, a proper Yorkshire is quite dense, the kind of thing you can mop up gravy with.
As for the cauli-cheese, the truffle was a nice touch, but it was essentially cauliflower sat in milk with some melted cheese on top, not cauliflower in a cheese sauce. That bit was the only real disappointment though. We finished with a yummy crème brûlée, with a surface that gave an impressive crack with the teaspoon.
I would evaluate it as such; a quality meal, particularly great meat, for a very reasonable price of £9.99. But it’ll never beat your nan’s, and I’m pretty certain there are better roasts in the city somewhere — that I’m determined to find. Stay tuned for more roast reviews.