May 30, 2011

The Princess of Shoreditch: spoiled, superficial and inconsistent.

Feckin fitting. The darling gastropub of Shoreditch is just as much a vacuous wannabee as the crowd that now infests the neighborhood.

Just as the gritty, cool, authentically care free and creative generation that made Shoreditch is now copied by empty, overly produced shells, so is the Princess of Shoreditch a try hard, mediocre place to eat.


Yeah, there's some nice fluorescent portraits, and everything is in the de rigueur shabby chic, muted style. But the food is crap. I mean, the sticky toffee pudding was great, granted. But I've pulled better things out of my own ars£$%$. My friend had this ravioli, which turned out to be this doughy, oversized, clumsy mess.


The roast was £15 quid, and I can get better for half the price around town. The bloody mary was appalling.


And Mischa Barton, darling, you desperately need a new colourist.



Blargh.

1 comment:

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