The Prospect of Whitby, Wapping

Today's pub, The Prospect of Whitby, lays claim to being the site of the oldest riverside tavern, dating from around 1520. (Thanks, Wikipedia)

Joining us on the Quest today are Vera, Roland, Oscar & Darren.

Vera & Roland chose this spot, local to theirs, and they arranged an excellent table in the back dining room overlooking the Thames. (pictured towards the bottom)

As you can see, the menu contains all of the staples.


Dishes Ordered: (Pictured left to right)

• Beef Roast (Oscar, Franc)
• Lamb Roast (Vera)
  
• Pie of the Day - Steak & Ale (Roland, Darren)

And then there were three orders of onion rings:









You may think that one order to share would be adequate, but no. Ever since the infamous Key Lime Pie incident of '05 where Darren ordered pie for himself and others thought it was to share, we all know that eating something Darren orders may result in hours of moaning. Thus, when his onion rings were shared, we made sure to order PLENTY more.

and we all shared some dessert:

• Sticky Toffee Pudding
• Spotted Dick
• Treacle Sponge
  

Observations: (collective and individual)

• In the English tradition, the vegetables were boiled to death (Oscar)
• The food was OK. (Roland)
• Cute outdoor patio- might be nice in summer (Franc)
• I like the noose. (Roland, on the view from our table, pictured)
  
• The staff was very friendly and checked on us multiple times. (Vera)
• When making the reservation, they asked if we'd like a table with Thames views (Vera)
• There was nothing wrong with the meal, but there was nothing special about it, either (Oscar)
• The Fish & chips look amazing- next time! (Vera)
• I like the space, but I don't think I'd travel for it. (Darren)
• Food was fine and definitely acceptable at this price point. (Franc)
• Darren liked those onion rings (Franc)

On to the scores: (awarded on these guidelines)







Our Updated Map of Eats:
*note: All Pubs visited including today's are noted with their scores in parentheses

View The Quest for the Best Sunday Roast in a larger map

The Well, Clerkenwell

Today's rendez-vous point was Clerkenwell's The Well. Selected for its convenient proximity to our new digs, this was our first meal at this spot, which we had previously only visited for a drink or two.

Joining us on the Quest today are Vera, Roland, Oscar, & Darren.

Not joining us is Dag, who despite asking specifically to come along this Sunday, cancelled on Friday. Werder Bremen weren't playing today, but we're sure there's a good reason for his absence.

We settled in at the venue, only to find that Oscar had overslept.

Being a polite lot, we waited for his arrival to place our orders. The waitress fed us bread as a bit of a consolation prize and despite getting a late start to order, we at no point were hurried.

The Well's Sunday menu boasts both a brunch and a lunch section, but we stayed on plan and stuck to the lunch offerings.

Dishes Ordered: (Pictured left to right)

• Roast fore-rib of beef, Yorkshire pudding, creamed horseradish (Vera, Roland, Oscar, & Franc)
  
• Billingsgate Fish Pie (Darren)
  

and because we like to eat... dessert!

• Golden syrup pudding, custard (Darren)
• Pear tart tatin, vanilla ice cream (Vera)
• Selection of British cheeses, oatcakes and quince jelly: Mrs Bell’s Blue, Spenwood, Isle of Avalon, Tovey, Smoked Gubbeen (split by Franc & Oscar)

Observations: (collective and individual)

• I received everything I wanted, as I wanted it. I asked for a more rare piece of beef, and the server gave me the rarest serving on the table. (Oscar)
• I thoroughly enjoyed my meal. The dining area's design is well executed but in no way unique. (Roland)
• My faith and will to live are restored (Roland, still scarred from his last roast)
• I like the aesthetic of the brick walls, windows, and blue window trim. (Vera)
• The Roast was served with plenty of vegetables, horseradish sauce, and amuch appreciated little boat of gravy. (Franc)
  
• The Oatcakes with the cheeseboard were crunchy, delicious, and not too thick, and I usually won't eat oatcakes because I think they take from the cheese experience. I also liked (aka: devoured) the generous ramekin of quince. (Franc)
• Nice, clean, modern space. (Darren)
• Good list of whiskeys (Oscar)
• Fishtank in the basement is nifty. (Franc)
• The sliced lemons in the water are a nice touch. (Franc)
  
• The staff was very understanding about our late friend (Darren)
• I have a new favorite dessert (Darren, who also declared last week's pub as his favorite dessert... it seems the torch has been passed)

On to the scores: (awarded on these guidelines)








Our Updated Map of Eats:
*note: All Pubs visited including today's are noted with their scores in parentheses

View The Quest for the Best Sunday Roast in a larger map

The Easton, Clerkenwell

Our first Roast of 2010 is The Easton.

We had actually planned to skip roast this week, and instead, to have a wander around the neighborhood. I had high hopes for my camera on this first sunny weekend day of the year, but after said walk and a dearth of souls I wanted to steal, we were hungry.

We had read about The Easton in the past, and when we found ourselves around the corner at Exmouth Market, we decided to venture over.

From the outside this pub looks like nothing special. It doesn't even have door handles. It actually looked almost closed, as the windows were covered with condensation.

The wave of deliciousness hits you once you open the door. It smells amazing. The interior is simple, bright, and very clean. The collection of mismatching chairs lends character.

The menu, pictured, looks wonderful.



Dishes Ordered: (Pictured left to right)

• Roast Beef (Darren & Franc)
  
• Apple Crumble (Darren)
  
• Chocolate Bread & Butter Pudding (Franc)
  

Observations: (collective and individual)

• Every table was booked; however, the staff welcomed us to sit for as long as the table was available. (We enjoyed Rodney's 2:30 table until 2:15.)
• Portions were very generous. (Franc)
  
• The meat was a bit gristly on the edges, but removing those bits, it was excellent. (Darren)
• The food was served piping hot. (see picture, Franc)
• The mix of vegetables with the roast was nice.
• It was both child and dog-friendly
  
• Best dessert since I've moved back to the UK (Darren, who moved back 2 years ago)
• I'm glad I didn't have to share my dessert (Franc)
• Our table was for four, but it wasn't suited for four, as the table's legs got in the way on two sides. (Darren)
  
• Ladies' room was impeccably clean. (Franc)
• This pub could be much more aesthetically inviting from the outside and cozier on the interior.
• We would definitely come here again.
  

On to the scores: (awarded on these guidelines)






Our Updated Map of Eats:
*note: All Pubs visited including today's are noted with their scores in parentheses

View The Quest for the Best Sunday Roast in a larger map

Oscarkitty

I had to put my cat of 13 years, Oscar, to sleep nearly two weeks ago.

I've never felt so deeply saddened by a decision I executed without a shred of regret.

I found my old friend at the ASPCA, where he cowered in the back in a cage labeled, "George". According to this cage, George was a loving, two year old cat whose previous owners had to part with him because they had concerns about having a baby and a cat.

All lies, I tell you. Lies!

What actually hid inside that cage was a huge, unneutered, 8 month old cat who was easily overstimulated and was a bit of a biter. He didn't bite hard enough to cause injury, but it was enough to be very unpleasant. He had little thumbs which clicked when he walked, which at least allowed one an opportunity to take cover before he lunged.

I named him Oscar. He sucked, but he was mine. I loved him from the minute I held him.

He would run back and forth across my apartment, headbutting mugs off the arm rests of the futons. He burnt part of his whiskers off on a lit candle. He got stuck in a basket. He chewed on cables. He went too far onto the ledge when the cable guy left the window open and may have only survived due to rapid foodbag shaking. He was prone to lunging at the faces of people with sinus congestion.

He developed chronic urinary tract problems, which were only sorted after endless veterinary bills and the procedural equivalent of a gender change.

He ate half a stick of butter, and only stopped eating when I took it away. He rode the train to Albany in a cardboard box labelled, "glasses" and kept me company while I recovered from surgery. He played fetch with me while I did my calculus homework. He let burglars empty my apartment. He threw up on my loft bed while I was out. He started to purr for us.

He terrorized my mother's little dog, only to be terrorized himself by the cats he shared his home with. He howled through the night. He loved sleeping with us. He was such a nag I got him an automatic feeder. He was aggressive towards rollerblades.

He made my home a home. He became a lap kitty. He rested his head on my wrist for hours while I typed, working from home with a broken foot. He stopped fighting at bathtime. He managed to wake up my deeply sleeping housemate while I was in South America by slamming into his door.

He mellowed. He flew on planes and was pet by children. He was too tall for the cat-sized cargo carrier. He held it for over 30 hours when transported from my brother's in Florida to London. He developed a fear of suitcases but overcame his fear of the vaccuum.

He developed diabetes. It aged him rapidly. We gave him insulin. He stopped being able to jump onto the bed. We bought him a ridiculous set of stairs. He grew thin. He still wasn't much for having his picture taken.

He began breathing very quickly. Possibly a chest infection, maybe tumors, the tests were inconclusive. There were antibiotics, a nebulizer, and the aerokat. They alleviated his symptoms, but it didn't cure him. He grew thinner and weaker each month. The nebulizer made him fear us, the stress exacerbated his diabetes. Still, he tried to eat my ice cream. He remained social and seemed happy to be with us.

When the antibiotics ran out after four months of subcutaneous injections, we stopped the medication. In the week that followed, he grew more weak. I didn't want him to suffer.

His favorite people came to visit. We had a bit of a party.

Saturday came, and I took him to the Vet for the last time. He was peaceful.

Photo du Jour: At the British Museum

The British Museum is one of my favorite places in London.

I've fibbed a bit here, as I took this on the 22nd of December, but I've not had time to post it.

I'll probably resume Photo du Jour more frequently when Spring arrives, but until then, I'll be posting as opportunity permits.