Saturday, 9 January 2016

Review - Verdi, The Morgan Arms, Indo

Fuck, I just read back on a draft of a blog I wrote ages ago and just got an acute sense of 'your narrative voice is so annoying'. I was recently telling someone about my blog and considering whether that was a good call or not given that I'm trying to exhibit best self and, while best self is still authentic self, the ratio of 'highly functioning, got shit together, is fun' to 'it must be exhausting to maintain this (crazy) internal monologue' is definitely higher than usual. (Anyway, that ship has now sailed and actually I don't think they know my last name and if they do, whatever.) Anyway, this chain of thought got me onto candour and how frank it is appropriate to be in a public forum. Honesty has previously got me into trouble but I think still, on balance, if you can't be honest on a digital diary that you write mostly for yourself, when can you? So here's a round up of three local places I've been recently which it's taken so long to post because I didn't know how honest to be.

Verdi, or, 'the best couples to hang out with are the ones that are happy and also don't make you feel like a third wheel' 





















The starter was of these doughy pillows which I don't know the name of surrounded by salty cheese and curative my fresh ham. The prawn risotto was an unappetisingly pink colour which misrepresented how delicious it was . (As in, it was delicious.) The tiramisu was worth maintaining a separate pudding stomach for.

The Morgan Arms, or, 'is it a bad idea to go for dinner with your ex boyfriend? Categorically, unmitigatedly yes'



This was the best roast dinner I've had in London: the pork belly was so infused with flavour through the crackling and the flesh that anyone who doesn't believe in the positive effects of a marinade is a mug. The Morgan Arms mash made me feel sad that BLT has shut down due to gentrified rents because I would really just eat mash with gravy and vegetables the whole time if it still existed.

Indo, or, 'fuck I was so worried that I would have my first real experience of death that day and also conflicted because I had fun evening plans and didn't know how to process the mix of sad that friend might die and excited about fun date'. (Addendum: friend didn't die, so grateful and thankful to God that I don't believe in.) 


I was unconvinced by how good at food this mainly drinky place would be but hey! Solid pizza. Hand made base I think with pleasingly slightly burnt but crisp edges. Underdone topping but that's OK. Well done. 

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