Swaddled in ersatz rusticity, sheltered from the southwesterly winds by the South Downs escarpment, immune to the pains of the banking crisis thanks to its proximity to the wealthy enclaves of Hove, Haywards Heath and Lewes, this pub couldn’t be more comfortable if it was *something something Edmund Blackadder something*
I wouldn’t say it was resting on its laurels too much – they’ve made great efforts with the garden, although it’s crying out for a boules pit. But the interior is as expected – paved flooring, shiny soft leather seats, a slight over-cramming of tables into the building’s various crannies.
Those awnings look expensive, don't they?
The victuals conformed to type: pint of relatively local ale at international hotel prices; the cost of a Sunday roast in double figures. Over-described pub staples (the beef in the burger lived in a cottage in the next door village where it was fed cream teas and seaweed, or some shit like that). Customers gleamed. The barstaff were tall and thin. Our kids made a hell of a racket and threw stuff all over the shop.
We gobbled and ran, a good number of pounds further away from living anywhere near this place.
We had a table booked for 6 adults and 2 four year olds for Sunday Lunch at 1 o’clock yesterday. Although our daughter and the twins were very slightly late arriving, the food still took around an hour to arrive after we placed our order. After about 40 to 45 minutes we asked if the kid’s sausage casserole could come first, so that we could at least feed them. What was served, however, (at the same time as the rest of the food) was sausage and mash, not a casserole. The sausage casserole shouldn’t have been on the Sunday menu we were told! When the rest of the food arrived the person who had ordered a Three Bean Burger was served a Smoked Haddock Fish Cake in a bun instead. Fortunately she is not a strict vegetarian and does eat fish or seafood. (Someone at another table who’d ordered a Fish Cake complained when they got the Bean Burger on their plate, by all accounts!). Admittedly the manager took the price of the kid’s meal and the Bean Burger off the bill, but all of the vegetable in the side dishes were shrivelled from being kept warm under a lamp and the roast potatoes, being burned on the outside were only luke warm on the inside. My wife liked the Nut Roast, my daughter and I found the Roast Beef OK and the Sirloin Steak was OK (except that it came with a great big dollop of mustard sauce on the top of it – when the person who’d ordered it doesn’t like mustard). Our son-in-law found his Fish & Chips “OK”. Drinks seemed to take forever to be served and they got the order for coffees completely wrong at the end as well. The service was chaotic to say the least and when compared with other Sunday Roasts in the area, £15.00 for the beef was excessive. We have had much better quality, quantity and service for much less elsewhere. The place was heaving with people (all of them eating it seemed) so while the management clearly tried not to turn away custom they managed to overloaded the kitchen as a result.
Why is it that almost every time we have friends here from overseas we seem to be let down by poor service? Our only saving grace this time was that both the manager and our friends were from the same island continent, down under. We will not be returning to the Royal Oak to eat though.
That sounds about depressingly familiar, Alan – I guess money goes on branding these days, not on staff training…