I walked into this restaurant with zeal and impetus from a great summers afternoon. Walking out this place , I sank to the deep depths of the ocean; I swore I just seen Davey Jones locker on the sea bed. The service is comparable to that seen at a prisoner of war camp, or something endured by Fitzroy Mclaine in eastern approaches galavanting across the Gobi desert. Additionally, the draconian post world war rationing of potions and questioning your intellect and the ability to order adequate food to service your carnivorous appetite. After guilting them into providing my final dish, the only saving grace was that the food was actually ok. A great place for onion lovers ! Wow , will never come back, maybe stick to custard creams.
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