For my graduation meal I took my family to this British treat of a restaurant. It's on bustling Old Brompton road and serves the most waistline expanding plates of heaven I have ever squashed onto a fork. I ordered the pork belly, which was shockingly good. The crackling was scored into diamonds and fell off the joint in squares of succulent pig fat that when mixed with the creamed mash and apple sauce (obviously not ordinary apple sauce, more like a puree of the apples out of the garden of Eden. No wonder they're forbidden) tasted like a visit from Charlie's chocolate factory if he owned a pig farm.
My sister had the fish pie and, not to sound dramatic but it was the best fish pie I've ever eaten... I don't even think you should call it fish pie because it tasted like some God of fish had bathed in cheese before showering in cream, talcum powerdering in mash and oozing onto my plate with a sprinkling of home grown British garden peas and caramelised leeks.
My mother's fish and chips was so enormous that the tail of the fish poked me when I had my elbows out that were shovelling the pork belly into my ever open mouth. And the picture above of my nanna's pie doesn't do it justice. It had the depth of a treasure chest and what was inside could only be called just that. I could hear the crunch of the puff pastry with every prong of the fork and I was just sad that I hadn't worn an elasticated waist band to my graduation.
Oh, and to top it all off, everything's organic, everything's from Britain and the puddings might just be better than the mains.
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