Ramblers Schramblers

Sometimes, thing don’t go to well for this here blogger. On Saturday night, I went to a pop-up dinner by the Ramblers group, in an industrial location in Southwark. The hide and seek location, quirky decoration and hip crowd seemed to foreshadow an interesting night.

Unfortunately, things went downhill from there. The promised Jerusalem artichoke soup was substituted by a rather plain carrot soup, served with a poorly leavened homemade bread. Dishes came out irregularly out of the kitchen, with half the table waiting for the other half to be served. The soup was accompanied by a singer playing guitar and screetching his way through some rather insipid ballads. My friends were already sending me crossed looks at this point, and I was praying for things to improve from there.

But it was with utter disappointment that I tasted the main dish, a sloppy concoction of lumpy celearic mash and cold, dry pigeon. Barely edible. Something that would get points for effort if home cooked at a friend’s dinner party. But unacceptable for a £40,00 a head event.

Desert was even ghastlier. A mess of cream, jam and a biscuit shell.

But nothing could have prepared us for the vacuous and pretentious interactive theatre performance that followed.

Uh yes, buddy, my sentiments exactly. Get me out of here!