My husband and I have been frequent visitors to The Woodman over the years until about 12 months ago. The service slipped and we had more than one poor meal with bad service. In the name of festive cheer we decided to give them one more chance today, and I have to say they surpassed themselves in the atrocious services stakes.
Gordon Ramsey would have had a stroke!
I ordered Fish & Chips. What could possibly go wrong? Thousands of "chippie" proprietors up and down the land, without so much as an NVQ in Food Prep, pull this one off nightly.
The food came out quickly. They were off to a good start, only for me to find the reason for the speed was the lack of heat applied. The peas were tepid. Most pea lovers out there know that in order to obtain optimum pea pleasure, then certain steps must be taken in the heat department.
Since nobody ever bothers to ask, I took the initiative and wandered to the bar, peas in hand. The first member of the elite dream team looked at me, looked at the offending pea portion and wandered off without a flicker of recognition.
The second person had a little more trouble at getting past me as I made, not just eye contact, but I spoke. I find this method of attention grabbing is a lot harder for them to blatantly walk away from.
The peas were whisked away and what came back was certainly nothing like what had left the table.
The waitress came back and "dumped" a container of boiling green matter on to the table. Most of the contents were fetchingly slopped down the sides of the dish.
Next came the joyous discovery that was the fish.
Overcooked fish (so overcooked in fact it was a feat to find a piece still resembling a flake) in under cooked batter. I can imagine that this combination is particularly hard to achieve, so credit where credit is due. When I say under cooked, imagine if you will, the way in which it actually fell through my fork.
I spoke to the waitress, and told her of my plight, for her to look at me as if I had just spoken in an exotic foreign tongue.
Upon the drop of the penny she said "do you want another one doing". Not wishing to put anyone out, or face similar gruel like offerings, I politely declined.
She then turned on heel, leaving me and the plate of congealed horror staring one another in the face.
They then charged me the handsome sum of £12.95 for that particular dish. The only time anyone raised a smile was when my husband had popped the last digit of his pin number in and we were clearing off!
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