Gosh, it's been a hectic week! After travelling the length and breadth of the country, stuffing myself silly in dozens of top class swanky restaurants, I've narrowed down this week's selection to six of the best ...
The Royal Cavandish
Set in its own delightful grounds, the Cavandish offers a wide selection of dishes from around the world. I settled for the steak in hot pepper sauce, served with sauté potatoes and petits pois. Some dispute arose over the time it took for my meal to arrive, but after slapping the manager around for a while the matter was speedily resolved.
Excellent Value * * * *
A cosy little bistro with plenty of atmosphere. I sampled the poached trout with sauté potatoes and petits pois. Seating arrangements, however, were somewhat less than adequate, as initially I was shown to a table directly opposite the ladies washroom. I complained to the head waiter, and there ensued several minutes of heated conversation, before I stuck a fork in his head and he ran screaming into the foyer.
Poor * *
The Blue Horse
If the poor quality of the fare was not enough, I also had to contend with the surly attitude of the staff. Their scruffy appearance and inability to understand even the simplest instructions soured my appetite. I called the manager over and demanded that three of the waiters be flogged on the spot, and when he refused I broke a bottle of the house white and stuck it in his face. A waitress ran to phone the police, but I wrestled her to the ground and hit her with a chair, before beating a hasty retreat into the night.
An excellent evening's entertainment * * * * *
The Jolly Pixie
On this occasion I was joined by my good friend, Tubby O'Fartarse. Tubby interfered with the waitresses while I tucked into a cloakroom attendant served with sauté potatoes and petits pois. Uproar broke out halfway through the second course when Tubby suddenly stood up and said, "This tastes like shit!" at the top of his voice. Tables were pushed over and we took up our positions: Tubby, myself and the other customers hid behind a makeshift barricade near the door, while the staff took cover behind the bar. Gunfire was exchanged for several days, and for a while it seemed we were winning. The staff were pinned down, with no access to the kitchens, and we hoped to starve them out. But on the third day they took us by surprise by digging a tunnel which came up behind our lines.
Still subject to an extensive NATO bombing campaign * * *
M1, Junction 26
I had the cod with sauté potatoes with mushy peas. Tubby was sick.
From La Vertigo's exclusive menu I chose chicken soup, with sauté potatoes and petits pois. All was going well until Tubby O'Fartarse unzipped his trousers and placed his member in my bowl. I called the waiter over and told him there was a cock in my soup, but he just laughed and told me there was nothing he could do. Understandably aggrieved by his abusive tone I stuck two fingers up his nostrils, lifted him off the ground and spun him round several times before hurling him through a window. We were immediately surrounded by three divisions of crack infantry - it seemed our reputation had preceded us and the management were well prepared, so we had no option but to pay the bill and leave quietly.
What are petits pois, anyway? * *
NEXT ISSUE: Gerald de Scooter visits the leading restaurants of the Middle East, beginning with a grenade attack on the Grand Savoy, Beirut.