There’s nothing like a good Sunday Roast.
I came to The Water Poet on one of those ‘maybe this is the last nice day before winter’ days where, even though it’s a bit brisk, you force yourself to sit outside. (And also, outside was the only place to sit, as there was a football game on, and heaven help you if you tried to have a decent meal in the midst of that.
Sunday lunch menus are generally pretty straightforward: beef roast, pork roast, chicken roast or veggie sausages. This one was fancy!
I went for the pork, but it was more like pork belly, with really nice crackling. It came with… deep breath… roasted potatoes, parsnips, applesauce, carrots, gravy and an amazing Yorkshire pudding.
I’ve got to say, this is one of the best roasts I’ve had in a long time. Even though it was ridiculously huge, I finished every last bite.
Service was a bit spotty, but that’s only because they put one server out to handle at least 20 tables by herself. Honestly, it was just cruel. She looked like she was going to cry the entire time.
Inside, the restaurant is a bit of a labyrinth, which is fitting considering it’s tucked away off a very small street near the bustling Spitalfields market. Walking in, it doesn’t look very large, but as you move toward the back, there are separate dining rooms and the giant aforementioned patio. I realised shortly after, that I had been to this pub about a year before. Apart from the screaming football fans this time around, it has a good vibe.
Definite thumbs up. And a special kudos to our poor waitress for keeping it together. I hope she made a lot of money.
More pics on Flickr