Restaurant review: The Lion Hotel, Shrewsbury
They arrived at the Lion Hotel courtesy of that most modern manifestation of serendipity: the Travelzoo special offer. Would GL be delivered into a gourmand heaven, or exotic bacteria and a course of powerful antibiotics?
The Lion Hotel has been around since the 16th Century. Its interior seems not to have been radically updated since then: the look and smell evoked vivid nostalgic memories of GL’s old boarding school. Alas that did not bode well for the food: he ascribes his lead lined stomach to the sentient fare found in most public schools of the 60s. Nor was the ambience much better. Granted it was a weekday evening but it felt as though they were in death’s grey waiting room; one of the Four Horsemen was finishing his dessert before laying waste to a Dafur refugee camp. The waiting staff, by contrast, were very helpful and gave the lie to UKIP clowns: god forbid they should have been served by sullen bored Shrewsbury teenagers rather than enthusiastic Poles planning to use their handsome wages to buy a tractor factory in Gdansk. GL thinks that they knew he was a restaurant reviewer because they shoved them into a corner where passing farmers could gawp at them through the windows but where they couldn’t smell the toilets or see what the other diners were eating.
The meal? Ah well, there was a bit of difficulty there. GL is barely remember what he ate. This is generally a blessing in the antechamber to the afterlife; how would you feel being able to remember every day of the 50,000 years spent waiting to pass on to a better place? Not very bloody happy you can be assured. So as a defence the grey cells fade and as the sun sinks below the horizon the day’s memories recede into a warm fuzzy but vague glow. So, GL struggles. The meal was, oh Christ! the adjective bag is empty, erm, O.K. He remembers the Ham Hock starter. He remembers it because these are rarely done well, huge globs of jelly that looks like frozen snail slime drowning some third rate pork left over from yesterday’s £10 All-You-Can-Eat lunch buffet. It was actually good. The main course was fish he thought. At least he assumed so since it was the one that got away and he’s buggered if he remembers it. He thinks his wife was there but he can’t remember that either. It’s the ambience – it’s got a Shining thing going on.
So that’s the Lion Restaurant: once glorious, now fading and waiting to die. A bit like GL’s career, but lets not get all bitter. If you want somewhere to dump a mistress, somewhere private that will swallow up any amount of excess emotion this is it.
The next review GL will remember the food, he swears it, and don’t give a damn if it makes for an old fashioned review.
[edit: changed to the mandatory third person house style . Doh, Facepalm]
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