Saturday, 21 July 2012


“Please refrain from taking photographs in the restaurant, thank you”

This is because Mr Hirst doesn’t approve of it, as the blue formaldehyde should never resemble the colour of urine if your camera misjudges the white balance.

Well, FTFAL.

Tramshed (the autospeller kept insisting on ‘thrashed’ instead which then led to my reoccurring dreams of train-wrecks) is a restaurant that only serves only chicken and steak as its main courses. It’s done up in such a way that only the mature scenesters are worthy of flocking in.

This post is not about the cow because once you’ve been to...

Plan A
Plan B

...then everything else sucks.

I came to Tramshed for the cluck. A roast chicken dinner evokes an unparalleled feeling of culinary completeness. And I’m happy to declare that Tramshed did indeed fulfil that desire.

Clover Tea Club 
Plymouth gin, lemon, raspberry syrup, and chilled earl grey tea. £9.75
Except that the above was virgined, sans gin- ½ price at only a fiver.

The Virgin Tea Club lived up to their drinks’ menu commitment of-

“Our long drinks can be created in sympathy to the drivers, the impending mothers, those who have consumed too much, those that are not yet able to consume, and finally those whose religion, culture, or mother forbids them to imbibe. Please ask your waiter.”

Chicken and Chips.
The service courtesy of this engaging chap alone (we were allocated at the bar) was quite brilliant.

Goes without saying that a majority of Gweilos have queasy issues about them feet. But I don’t mind and besides I prefer the feet like served like this.

But you have to admit it’s more of an oil painting than its creator.

Engaging chap initiates the ceremony by jointing the leg.

An excellent and most perfect roast chicken Simon Hopkinson would approve of. 
Chips were pleasant enough but were perhaps too chickeny as rightly suggested but undeservedly lambasted by a certain ‘divine and rubicund’ restaurant blogger.

I’m a leg man every time!

Waste not, want not. 
Doggy bag the carcass and proceed home with the chicken soup recipe provided by Hixy.

Ronnie’s apple pie with custard

It was dull as ditchwater. 
Ronnie has obviously never tried one of Maccy D's apple pies! 

At least for me, roasting a chicken at home is a major hassle so if I were you I would rather leave the whole kerfuffle to Tramshed instead. £25 for a delicious bird that has been happily reared and with more than enough chips you’ll ever need to scoff in one sitting can only be excellent value for money.Tramshed gets my vote for the ambience, service at the bar and that mighty chicken.

 Below is a plug for ''The Roast Chicken'', a poem by Robin Becker:

32 Rivington Street
London EC2A 3LX

1 comment:

steve said...

I like Tramshed. Go back and have the steak.