Sir Henry Morgan

I have mentioned more than once on these Blogging pages that Mrs B. and I enjoy our food. We have eaten in some very nice places and in some of these very nice places we have been served some dreadful food. Maybe we are a bit unusual because on more than one occasion we have paid for our main course and left without eating it.

If we are off out for grub then we are not going to endure the ‘ping’ of the microwave or try to eat a steak where the chef doesn’t know the difference between braised and ‘medium rare’. Unless we are having a Nepalese or Indian meal, then we also don’t want food that is soaked in a sauce in order to hide the quality of the produce. In simple terms Mrs B and I want good food, well prepped and cooked well.

We had planned to visit what we know is an extremely good steak house in the Bay in Cardiff. But those who follow the Blog will know that I am a fatalist. Things happen for a reason, and when I suggested to someone that we were popping over the road for a lunchtime drink (non alcoholic thank you), they recommended The Sir Henry Morgan further down the road. Good choice folks as the nice clean pub had a suitable nice clean and large car park. I like a bit of leather, which is why in many ways I like the Volvo brand. Quality comes at a price and The Sir Henry Morgan like Volvo didn’t disappoint. Our lunchtime drinks, newspaper and nibbles went down a treat. The friendly staff mentioned the menu without being pushy. We both cast an eye over the well laid out double page, and decided to cancel our Bay idea and instead book a table for dinner.

Quite a few hours later after a hectic day in the City we trundled back by cab. Yet another pleasant welcome and a table already set with our names chalked on a small slate table mat. Nice touch, great smells, great anticipation. I can’t tell you what Mrs. B’s food was like, as she eats hers, and I eat mine. There’s none of this silly double spoon food sharing malarkey with us. But I must say that her cod starters looked exceptional and based on what was said at the time, the taste and texture matched the image. I can however wholly recommend the asparagus and poached egg. I’m a bit of a poached egg aficionado. Whenever we stay in the Hilton or the Marriott I always ask for two poached eggs with my breakfast. Our eldest Jodi can do a mean poached egg, equal to any 5* chef. Ok, I have to admit it; so can The Sir Henry Morgan.

Now Mrs B and I do like a bit of variety, you know, it being the spice of life etc. But on this occasion we were both drawn to the steak accompanied by homemade chips cooked in beef dripping. None of this ‘cook it until it flames’ with us, after a spot of touring in France, its medium rare at the most. The best way to sum up the main course is to mention the conversation between us and the group opposite. He and I speaking simultaneously both came out with the phrase; “that was probably the best steak that I have ever had in the U.K.“


The Sir Henry Morgan
635 Newport Road, Rumney. Cardiff
02920361311
Opinion: Fine dining at IKEA prices
Probably best to book for Friday or Saturday evening

Where is the NoW? And on Being Bonkers

In my last Blog post, I asked where the other news was. Maybe I should have asked where is the News of the World?

You have to be extremely naive to believe that spying including phone hacking is a new phenomenon. There are many examples of tape cassette recording, secret filming, telephone and room bugging of individuals to get a story. Best part is; this type of behaviour is nothing new. So maybe we have to ask ourselves what is new about what the News of the World has been accused of? Has our tolerance threshold for such behaviour declined, or is there some other influence that has caused the collapse of what is (was) the best selling Sunday newspaper.

You don't get that many readers from being useless or average, and you don't get that many stories from phone hacking.

To be perfectly honest with you, I am a (London) Times and Sunday Times reader. But I was shocked when I heard that the News of the World was closing. I mean lets be real, if you had sat at a table with a few friends a decade ago and one of them said; "In the next ten years, Woolworths will close, so will MFI, and Focus, and Habitat, oh and the News of the World", you would have quite rightly thought that he or she were completely and utterly bonkers. I mean, these were all institutions. OK, Focus wasn't right up there with the others. But hey ho, I'm sure that you get my drift.

I was so shocked about the News of the World, that this morning I had a copy of the last ever edition delivered to our hotel room. Along with my Sunday Times of course. "Hey, Mrs. B" I say, as I'm walking back into the room having just closed the door and with the two papers folded together. "I have the Sunday Times, do you want a read?"

"Yes," comes the reply, "chuck it on the bed and I'll have a look later." To which I respond as I swiftly take the goodies from behind my favourite read, "Oh, I've also got the News of the World!".

"Brilliant, pass it here" as she instantly starts the read. Sort of says it all, doesn't it? The fools, they should have sacked anyone who was to blame and ridden out the storm. Better still, they could have outed them all one at a time each and every Sunday and we would have queued to buy the next edition to see who was going to prison that week. It would have made a great serial. They could have even put a strap line under their Heading;

The News of the World
No hacking - only sacking

They missed a great opportunity, because everyone loves a bad boy turned good. Especially if others think that they had something to do with the cleansing. They may be rich and they may be powerful, but sometimes the best in the land could do with an impartial opinion of a qualified strategist. You have to look beyond the 'quick win'. There's no point in dumping a winning formula, if by doing so you run the risk of dumping everything else. I think that it was a big mistake, but then again, I'm not a billionaire so what do I know?

So what's next; 'the SUNday'