Let's get one thing straight right from the off. I like the café on top of Box Hill a lot. Always friendly, always open and the cakes are great. It's a wonderful destination for the hungry cyclist. But on Wednesday I was thrown out of home. So, no lunch what shall I have? Hey! A pasty from the café, why not?
Well why not indeed. It looked like a pasty, and it tasted like one but quite frankly it wouldn't win any prizes. The inside was just a thick gravy with no distinction between meat, potatoes or any vegetables. You could have stuck a straw through the shell and consumed the contents. It was like eating pasty flavoured slop. What an horrid product. Back to cakes and coffee from now on, firm ground there. But on a positive note, if I ever end up serving time inside, at least I'm prepared for prison food. Either that or being old and having no teeth; it'd be good for a toothless pensioner.
Well why not indeed. It looked like a pasty, and it tasted like one but quite frankly it wouldn't win any prizes. The inside was just a thick gravy with no distinction between meat, potatoes or any vegetables. You could have stuck a straw through the shell and consumed the contents. It was like eating pasty flavoured slop. What an horrid product. Back to cakes and coffee from now on, firm ground there. But on a positive note, if I ever end up serving time inside, at least I'm prepared for prison food. Either that or being old and having no teeth; it'd be good for a toothless pensioner.
Looks good, tastes OK but otherwise? Fail!
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