What a Carve Up!

There is one particular Pub Trend which really grindes my gears. No, it’s not Pubs with playareas for Children (though as a single childless chap I can’t say they are high up in my Pub favourites) which might surprise my readers. Nor is it Clicky Hipster bars, (though I tend to frequent bars where the patrons tend to have creaking hips), no it is the Carvery. I cannot abide the places. Line up with a tray, where the Chef asks you want you want and plonks it on your plate. It’s like going out to have a School Dinner, why on Earth would you pay for that experience? Then there is the veg which, like at school, is ether undercooked or way overcooked and slowly breaks down into mush! Of course then there is the question of one lump or two? No, sugar in my tea but dollops of what is laughingly called Gravy. I’m fairly certain gravy is not supposed to be gelatinous, but at the Carvery it more often then not is. When I do end up eating at one, which is seldom, I usually freak out the server and ask for the vegetarian gravy as that is usually done to order. When queried I point out that the meat gravy is made from all the meats and I’m Jewish as opposed to the real reason.

Then there is the people, the lure of a cheap lunch where you can help yourself to the veg brings out a variety of nasties.  They pile up the veg and leave most of it uneaten and try to get something for nothing, and the worst part is what happens with the sauces. You will have exposed bowls of Sauce including Horseradish, Mustards, Mint and Cranberry sauce, sitting out in room temperature which isn’t great to begin with, but then you frequently – and I mean frequently- will lick the spoon once done and then put the aforementioned implement back into the sauce pot! What in the name of crying out loud is up with people’s mentality?

When working at the Horseshoes at Uckington under the incompetence ridden tyrannical rule of Sentry Pubs and their sycophantic puppet they laughingly called a manager (I called him an alcoholic perv, 42 year old boffing a 17 y/o girl case in point), we had one family empty an entire tray of roast potatoes. He of course, rather then address the issue,  said “it’s carvery” dismissively and went back to drinking the pint of Carling he permanently had in his hand.  The problem is the Knock on effect, you end up with these groups of people in other places demanding something for nothing. Carvery’s, I hope they like Watney’s Red Barrell, disappear out of the Pub trade.

In response to the Daily Prompt: Carve

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