The Ashmolean Restaurant, Oxford

There is nothing more pleasurable than sitting on a sunny restaurant roof terrace gazing over Oxford. However we were denied  this pleasure. It was drizzling half-heartedly as me, my mum and granddad entered the restaurant on top of The Ashmolean Museum.

It’s strange to think that I was the youngest diner by about 60 years. Even my mum said the place made her feel young. The upside to this was that there was no children’s menu in sight but nor were there any waiters to take our order. When one finally arrived we were still puzzling over the menu which seemed very expensive for simple, seasonal ingredients. Nearly £7 for chopped tomatoes on toast and double that for an egg and bit of asparagus. The waiter seemed surprised that there was a child with knobbly knees sitting in his restaurant, and even more startled to find the urchin ordered squid which finaly  arrived hidden under a minute salad and with a side of chips to keep me from starving.

There is nothing more depressing than when your fellow diners starters arrive 20 minutes before your main and you are forced to hoover the whole bread basket (this often happens to me and other children too.) When you have waited nearly forty minutes for a squid and two pieces of lettuce you expect your mind to explode inside your skull, your taste buds dancing and singing inside your mouth. No, it felt like eating an old rubber from the bottom of a pencil case.

IMG_0295Pudding was a small improvement, jelly and cream in a Martini glass, I remember making a similar dish in nursery school. Did that take me years of training as a chef? No.

The most interesting bit of this meal was walking through the museum to get there.

I would rate 5/10



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