| Product: |
As You Like It (Newcastle upon Tyne) |
| Date: |
24/04/07 (3918 review reads) |
| Rating: |
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Advantages: Organic, locally-sourced food
Disadvantages: Slow service, Chaotic, Awful decor, Cannot book tables, Expensive drinks
Walking into “As You Like It” is like walking into an artist’s impression of what a cosy country pub should be. Unfortunately, said artist has clearly never been anywhere near the country, for he think that just by shoving a few antique sideboards, a few tables of different sizes and styles, and a jumbled mix of lived-in chairs into a room that the impression of an aged rural establishment can be created. It cannot. It takes more than a mish-mash of colours, fabrics and designs to create an ambience of decadence and rustic comfort. This restaurant instead looks horribly contrived, and the addition of a painfully trendy bar staffed by distinctly urban staff in black uniforms does nothing to alleviate the faux charm of the place. The “interesting” décor also clashes quite alarmingly with the setting of the lowest floor of a concrete office block; while the interior may strive to be the mansion from “Great Expectations” the exterior was more Nelson Mandela House.
The selection of “As You Like It” for my Other Half’s recent birthday celebrations had initially started out as a very promising endeavour. The expensively published booklet that dropped through our door to announce the opening of Jesmond’s first gastro pub and terrace had wooed us with promises of an organic, locally-sourced menu of food, homemade dishes, and real ale. The sample menu of food that was included in this booklet made our mouths water, and the fact that this was a restaurant that seemed to support local farming just sealed our desire to eat there. “As You Like It” basically serves up pub grub, but posher, better presented, and a bit more expensively priced. I’ll give you an example. As good as bangers and mash is, doesn’t “rare breed pork sausages served on a Heritage potato mash with onion gravy” sound that much nicer? Or how about a Sunday lunch made from “leg of organic Northumbrian lamb studded with rosemary and garlic” as a change from roast chicken? Even the kids’ menu was impressive, just going to prove that restaurants are indeed capable of doing more than shoving endless turkey twizzlers, fish fingers and baked beans down children. I can’t imagine many parents would object to their offspring eating organic spaghetti and meatballs, a Northumbrian ham platter or a beef burger that is actually made from 100% organic beef. I like places that treat children as small adults rather than nuisances – if nothing else, it means that children will tend to behave more grown up if they are treated like grown ups, so they don’t become the nuisances to other diners that some “family” establishments treat them like to start with. (Having said that, I doubt I would want to bring any child of mine to this place; the atmosphere was more suited to wealthy 30-somethings in designer clothes than families with kids. The one family I saw there looked as distinctly uncomfortable as I felt).
As this was a special occasion, we wanted to make sure that we had a table waiting for us upon arrival, so we could spend a relaxed evening enjoying ourselves. However, “As You Like It” apparently don’t believe in booking tables for groups smaller than eight people because (and I quote from their advertising) “it’s just easier not to”. Easier for who, exactly? We arrived at 7pm, both hungry from long days at work and eager to get stuck into our dinners only to find the place was full; not heaving or excessively busy, but all of the eclectic tables were occupied and there was, as it were, no room at the inn. A waitress directed back to a reception area, where we could join the overly complicated queuing system that involved giving waiting diners a pager to let them know when their table was ready for them. Or at least we tried to. It took ten minutes of waiting to actually get served by a member of staff, who caught us just as we were about to give it up for lost and walk out. The pager system was off tonight, she said, but if we wait at the bar, someone will come and get us when a table was ready. I quite fancied a glass of wine, but after seeing another customer charged £4.50 for a not-exactly-large glass (I could buy a bottle for that) I instead opted for a Magners and bought birthday boy a pint of Grolsch. Excuse me? Did you say £6.30 for that? Hmmm, I’m sure I wouldn’t be charged that much if I was genuinely in a cosy country pub.
While we were perched on our uncomfortable bar stools sipping drinks that the bartender freely admitted were overpriced, two other groups of customers came in, were given pagers and got tables before us. And good tables, too. When we were finally offered one of our own, it was one of coffee table height squeezed into a darkened corner: despite being of small stature, I was left wedged into my chair at an awkward angle as I couldn’t get my legs properly under the low table. I should perhaps at this juncture point out that in the absence of an advertised dress code at this establishment, we went attired in our ordinary casual clothes – scruffy jeans, trainers and jumpers – which I suspect was part (all?) of the cause of this treatment. We simply weren’t trendy enough to get a good table, prompt service, pagers or somewhere to sit that didn’t cause backache and bruised knees. We were put into the darkest corner, well of the eye-lines of the beautiful people who were in the main part of the restaurant. Well, I suppose they didn’t want us putting other diners off their food now, did they?
When we finally got the chance to order food, I chose the shepherd’s pie made from “organic Northumbrian lamb topped with Yukon gold mashed potato” (£8) and birthday boy had “whole lemon sole simply grilled with olive oil and lemon with heritage potatoes” (£11). These dishes took about an hour to get to us (despite the fact it wasn’t especially busy) and were so small when they arrived that I thought for a minute that we had accidentally been brought child-sized portions. Admittedly, what I had was excellent – the mince in the shepherd’s pie was obviously top quality and served in a wonderfully rich gravy, and the mash on top was light and fluffy – but I though for £8 there should have been a little more. I appreciate that meat is expensive, but it seemed they could have been distinctly more generous with the potato and veg (barely a tablespoonful of the latter, and a little undercooked at that). My Other Half similarly commented that his fish was gorgeous, but half a dozen mini-egg-sized spuds is really not that much for the money he was paying. I am not an especially greedy person, but from the advertising I saw, I was expecting something a good deal…heartier. I declined to try the dessert menu; I didn’t really want to pay another £5 for a teaspoonful of pudding that would probably take half the night to arrive.
The final insult came when I went to the bathroom before leaving. The toilets themselves were well appointed, generously numbered and clean, and had a nice touch of providing bottles of hand cream alongside the soap. However, the washbasins were clearly designed with form ahead of function. They resembled a shell sunken into the counter, and as gorgeous as they were to look at, they were terribly shallow – and do you know what happens when you pour water into a very shallow basin? That’s right: it splashes up over the edge and soaks you. We left two hours after arriving, some £25 poorer, still hungry, and me with a wet jumper. It was a disappointing, humiliating experience and I felt thoroughly unwelcome. However nice those few mouthfuls of food were, I never ever want to set foot in “As You Like It” again – even if I have enough people in my entourage to book a table. It is a great idea for a business, but it really doesn’t work in practice.
Definitely not recommended.
www.asyoulikeitjesmond.com
Summary: Nice idea...shame about the reality
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