Last night, Dave and I went to an odd restaurant called Brunswick House in Vauxhall. It had been recommended by someone at school, and it was a very peculiar experience.
First of all, the place is full of old chandeliers, many of which have price tags hanging from them. I suppose if you want a cool old chandelier for your house you can buy one here, along with your pork chop dinner. The gigantic gilded mirrors that line the walls also appear to bear price tags. The one with the heron or crane painted on it, above, hung over our table in the bar. (It has a SOLD sticker, lower left.)
Evidently the place is part-restaurant, part-salvage yard. Or maybe those are all old price tags from when they bought the stuff? I have no idea.
I ordered a martini in the bar, very dry, and I got something that was instead quite sweet and didn't taste at all like a martini. Either the bartender was using a bizarre variety of gin or he was putting in sweet vermouth. It wasn't entirely disagreeable, once I abandoned the idea that it was a martini, and I wound up having two. (They were also tiny.)
Then we went into the dining room, where I got fish and Dave got lamb. I was so excited to see "mustard greens" on the menu! I've probably only had mustard greens a couple of times since I left the South many years ago. So of course I ordered them...
...and this is what came. Y'all, those are not mustard greens. That is cabbage. With mustard on it.
I had a little chat with the waitress about what "mustard greens" mean to an American, but I ate the cabbage. I don't know whether they're trying to be funny or have genuinely never heard of actual mustard greens.
My fish was good, and I thought Dave's lamb was good (although he was less enthusiastic, and said his potatoes were too hard). For dessert Dave got yummy banana bread with toffee (or something) as a sauce, and I got a gluey, tasteless slice of pumpkin cheesecake in which no hint of pumpkin could be detected. I didn't even eat it.
So, yeah, definitely a hit-or-miss night out!