Review – Morrison’s Supermarket Restaurant.

Cutting to the chase; it’s ace.  The car-park is vast and has afforded way more than the average number of minority spaces with additional square footage.  The pointless ‘turnstile’ doors have been replaced with a vast opening to allow quick and easy passage for the bargain-hunting thrifty.  Through the doors and immediately right and there it is.  Invariably quiet; plenty of empty tables, bright and fresh paintwork with padded chairs in faux-Farrow & Ball colours and several friendly hobo’s enjoying a chippie tea.  We’re well versed.  Hell we love it here!  Grabbing a tray we prepare to load up with carton’s of juice, fruit bags, hot beverages and a red number; proof of our hot food order!  The Mother usually likes scampi though of late has had a hankering for sausage (leave it there), I only ever want the fish & chips with ‘mushies’, then pizza and nuggets with chips and beans. At this point we’ll hand over under a tenner.  That’s fucking right; ‘under a tenner’!  It’s daylight robbery but in this case quite refreshingly I feel like the consumer is ‘doing over’ the conglomerate giant!

Nestling at our favourite table; by the window perusing several life forms picking out plants in a temporary ‘poly tunnel’ in the car park.  Here we settle and the 8yo positively rejoices in the responsibility of collating the cutlery and ‘free’ condiments!  Following suit to all responsible parents I’ll keep the 3yo amused by ‘flash carding’ and teaching her to count in French (aka watch Peppa Pig on my smart phone).  At this point The Mother and I will take our first sip of latte.  It’s a short-lived yet sublime moment usually punctured by the 8yo realising she needs a wee and the 3yo smelling somewhat-less-than-fresh.  Still 10 minutes later after the usual debacle in the ‘disabled toilets’s’ we’re back, yes my latte is now only tepid but I’m safe in the knowledge that I can have another with pudding!  The food arrives quickly enough to applaud but not so fast as to cause alarm. My fish is fresh from the surf as is The Mother’s scampi…the chips are adequate and the mushies to die for.  I’ll decant at least 7 sachets of Tartare sauce which is in keeping with Piscean law then open a further 32 sachets of mayonnaise for the children.  Whilst openly salivating I’ll then mop up the inevitable spillages of juice (‘ffs don’t squeeze’…) run back to the till to buy another whilst marvelling at how quickly a queue can build.  Then return slightly out-of-breath to an unrecognisable 3yo coated liberally in bean juice.  At this point I’ll think ‘fuck it’ and commence operation ‘chow down’ on my now lukewarm dinner.  The best bit is still to come.  Hang on to your hats…

After dinner we move on swiftly to pudding. And Morrisons do puddings; proper stodgy and ‘spongetastic’ served with non-lumpy, yellow custard.  Hot ‘pud’s’ of yesteryear that leave The Mother and I with the grins of our 10yo-selves back in the day.  ‘Roly Poly’, jam or syrup sponge, chocolate or bread & butter pudding, fruit pies or crumbles enough to make Greg Wallace cream in his Chino’s.  These cost £1.  Yes, you read that correctly.  If you buy an adult meal with a FREE children’s meal and the FREE bloody drinks and fruit bags…you can also get a bowl-full of your sugary past for a quid!  Seriously.  What. The. Hell. Is. Not. Love???  The food is cheap and fresh; not unlike a school dinner, and served by similarly built women, wearing hair nets and bearing a greasy smile. I feel safe in Morrissons.  It provides for all my family’s ‘belly-lining’ requirements on a budget. I can only assume now you’re informed I’ll see ya there!!

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