Do you know what I really hate, now come on lovely reader, you must know me this much. I HATE looking forward to food, the wonderful anticipation, the long drive (no I don’t like that bit, that is a lie) then getting a plate of MEH. To be fair one plate of ho hum and then a plate of Oh No How Could You Do This To Me. I work hard, I run a charity and I am a good woman. Last time we visited Godot’s it was really nice, middle of Marlborough Jazz Festival, sunny day, sat with a huge group of lovely friends in the courtyard and great food.
We like Marlborough, it is a lovely market town, indeed we looked at some house prices there and then decided we shouldn’t have to live in an affordable portacabin regardless of the area. However we still continue to visit, the charity shops are particularly good for those of us that are not too proud to wear other peoples version of taste and style.
We had a good start, quick and very friendly service, tap water offered (tick) and what looked like an interesting menu. Three fish specials which we didn’t go for (why oh why, isn’t hindsight great).
Tonys whitebait, a huge amount of tasty and crunchy whitebait, the best dish of the evening. The tartare sauce didn’t appear to be home made but served its purpose.
Hmm, the seafood sharing platter. No butter (small and individual pique) ok smoked salmon, very average prawns from that bag in the freezer I suspect and a so so mackerel pate, very mushed. Plus side, this is the medium sharing platter, not the big one and both this and the whitebait came in huge portions.
Tony’s sirloin steak, again a bit meh. Steak was chewy and he left the gristly bits although I ate them as I am disgusting and love fat and gristle and actually was quite hungry now. Not a huge amount to complain about but nothing to celebrate either.
I should mention here that I used my steak knife with the starter and offered to just use it again for the main but was gently told that they had more cutlery. I so nearly called this post Waiting for Godot’s knife Sadly it never came so I used Tony’s to make the big cut although in my heart I knew what was coming and whatever came wasn’t anything remotely bloody. Really sad but it was so overcooked, if I was being kind I would say it was medium well edging to well whereas I had asked firmly for rare. I don’t know how this happened, was the message not passed on or was the chef not on the ball. Either way I couldn’t eat it at all and sent it back. They did offer me another one which I didn’t really want by now AND knocked the lamb off the bill. They were also very apologetic and all of this was appreciated. I don’t put up with people eating everything and then complaining but as soon as I told them that I was unhappy with the dish they did try to sort it.
My rare lamb. Wah wah.
How cute are my son Joe, his wife Rebecca with my granddaughter Jennifer. A bright end to a rather sad meal story.