Food - The Brewers

I popped into the Brewers Arms with some friends to discuss a birthday party and we decided to get some lunch while we were there. I ordered a burger, which was billed as coming with coleslaw and salad, for £3.70. “Do you want relish?” asked the barman. “I guess so,” I said. I also ordered a pint of Harveys. We sat in the front section, where you can’t smoke, and started discussing the do. It’s not a bad space, the front bar of the Brewers, though its faux poshness does get on my nerves a little.

You can use a lot of adjectives to describe food. It can be tasty or spicy or delicious or scrumptious or disgusting or hot or cutting-edge or gourmet or whatever. I have never before had any food which was funny. When my burger arrived, everybody at the table laughed. It was tiny. It came on a saucer. It was one of those frozen ones, jammed between two soft buns. I pulled off the top of the bun to look inside, and you could see the meat was slightly burnt, under the smear of relish which was its only accompaniment (no sign of the coleslaw or salad). Everyone laughed even more. My companions’ food arrived. One had a plate of broccoli mornay, which looked great. Another had a steak sandwich, with so much steak it was falling out of the sides of the bread. More laughter. At my burger, at me. I ate it in three or four bites, probably in under a minute. Next time I’ll go for the steak sandwich, which is served without ridicule. Nice beer, though. AL