M&S Revive, High Street

Visited on the 26th January 2013, for afternoon tea.

As usual, the Saturday human traffic not only dominated both the pavement and road (much to the annoyance of buses), but filled most of Exeter's many street cafes.

Sadly for us, this meant that today our rest-stop in Tea on the Green was not meant to be, though the waiter politely informed us that we could wait outside in the cold and watch other people gorge themselves on delicious food and hot drinks until a table became free. Given that there was already a small crowd of hungry customers loitering outside the window, we decided to try our luck elsewhere.

Tired and cold, we somehow found ourselves in the corporate dullness of M&S Revive. The main reason for this choice was a gift card of unknown value that we had in our possession, so we were overjoyed to discover that it was worth the impressive sum of £30. An amount of feast-worthy proportions.

Revive- top floor

Feeling frivolous with our new-found wealth, we escalated excitedly to the third floor. Oh, the luxury we could afford! We were so caught up in the moment we hadn't even considered going to the food hall and spending it all on wine!

We arrived, and I scanned the hot food signs for the vegan option. I had a hankering for a toasted houmous sandwich (like the one I had dreamt of while on the way to Tea on the Green), and after all, we were in Marks and Spencer - suppliers of quality world food - and I was ready to scoff their vegan delights. So I was disappointed to discover that the dairy-free options were all meat-based, and the veggie options consisted of a toasted cheese sandwich, or another type of toasted cheese sandwich.

Resigned to my lacto-fate, I reluctantly plumped for a toasted cheese sandwich. But cows cheese had been flavour of the day, so I had to have the alternative toasted cheese sandwich instead- the mozzarella, tomato and rocket focaccia.

Now, I'm not very familiar with focaccia breads, but I'm pretty sure that traditionally it isn't microwaved. It arrived soft and warm, with the texture of cheap brioche and fused quite convincingly to the napkin. I had expected it to be more like a panini, with a crispy crust and maybe some sesame seeds, but either I have been mis-educated in bread, or they'd served me one of their kitchen sponges by mistake. The tomatoes were strong and chewy, almost like they were sun-dried (but I suspect industrially dried for preservation and semi-rehydrated by the cheese), and the limp looking rocket salad appeared to have been thrown at the plate from across the room.

Taste-wise the quality was just about there, but the cold, hard truth was that we were in a department store, with a waitress expectantly waiting to clear our table for the next customers. No music, no atmosphere, and the rows of men's pants just a couple of metres behind us.

My meal and orange juice deprived us of around £5.70 (with a total spend of £9.85 for both of us). Despite this, we left the shop with a lowly 15p remaining on our £30 card. I think I will get much more enjoyment out of my new knickers.

The Clifton Inn, Clifton Road

-->

visited on the 11th January 2013, for pre-quiz sustinence.

The Clifton Inn is still my local; despite having recently moved two miles away it's still easily first choice for Friday post-work drinks. It's one of the only drinking establishments with minimal student trade, which renders it cosy and fancy-dress free, with local regulars who are always up for a chat whether you've met them before or not. Even if you have, chances are they won't remember anyway and you can do it all again next time. After a hard day at work, the straightforwardness can be therapeutic.

The Clifton Inn

In the past month or two it's changed hands and is now an even more excellent place to be- cleaner, brighter, and with a barman who has my lager-top poured by the time I've made it from the door to the bar. Even better, they've started serving food (so I don't drink on an empty stomach and spend the next day with my brain trying to escape from my skull).

Two Fridays ago, they introduced their new pub quiz and I was as happy as an elephant in water (they really love swimming). Obvioulsy we needed brain food so we decided to sample the day menu. As you might expect, it pretty much consists of meat in buns, pies, and baked potatoes.

Somewhat surprisingly, there has been effort made to provide veggie versions of everything. It is in the detail that you discover that actually, we were probably an inconvenient afterthought. The vegetarian version of the all-day breakfast replaces sausages with it's plant-based equivalent- fair enough you may say. Look a bit further down and you'll find the Veggie 'Burger', is actually two veggies sausages in a bun. Can you guess what comes with the chips instead of fish? The only thing that doesn't come with veggie sausages is the baked potato with beans.

Uninspired, I chose the 'Veggie Burger' (which I would have called a sausage sandwich), served with chips and salad. At least there was still the quiz to look forward to!

At this point you're probably assuming that I've been referring to traditional-style sausages, made from soya or quorn. But no, for the first time since I first became a vegetarian in 1992, I was faced with those mashed potato sausages that you find in the Sainsbury's 'Basics' range; you know, those ones with a bit of freeze-dried mixed veg thrown in for colour. Perpetrators of the notion that veggies can only eat vegetables, and probably not suitable for vegans.

So I'll rename the dish again; mashed potato sandwich, chips, and an uncomfortable-looking salad. Undressed, pale, and flaccid. It looked embarasssed to be on the plate with the accompanying monster-stodge; like a geek forced to play in a school rugby team. I picked up a sachet of ketchup to add some colour to the beige, but decided against it upon reading that it 'may contain' any or all of the following: milk, celery, soya, gluten, nuts, fish, eggs. Where the hell are they making this stuff? In the middle of a farmer's market? The proximity of the words 'fish' and 'eggs' did something to my brain that I can't explain. And don't start me on kitchens that serve condiments in eensy-weensy sachets instead of nice clumpy bottles...

All of that said, the food did the job and given the price of £3.95, I probably got my money's worth. Also, they're not the kind of pub that'll spit in your food if you ask for something vegan.  I'm not sure if I'll make a habit of eating in the Clifton regularly, but I'll certainly continue to drink there. On occasion, the food's fine for lining the stomach- it's a pub, not fine dining. But if you're veggie then you might as well just get a bowl of chips.

We didn't win the quiz. But they did forget to put bacon and cheese in the other half's American Burger so that was nice.

The Royal Oak, Okehampton Street (Exe Bridges)

Visited 25th November 2012, for a late lunch.

We stumbled into the Royal Oak late one Sunday afternoon after strolling along the swollen river and curiously photographing rising water levels. With our first stop, The Mill on the Exe, being four feet under water and therefore closed, we began looking for an alternative carvery. Obviously wanting to shun the Wetherspoons around the corner and being in unknown territory, we were enticed by the Royal Oak sign promising 'Good, home-cooked food'.

The Mill on the Exe beer garden (AKA The Mill Under the Exe)

After enquiring at the bar, we were informed that they only had two pork roasts left. Of course, we had no need for one of those servings, so declared that we would like one animal-free meal, and only one of their two servings of murdered swine. “Fine, no problem at all” they said, so we thankfully ordered our drinks and sat down in the warm.

The Royal Oak

At this point, I started to learn my lesson about being forthright and strict about my nutritional choices. I already felt well out of my comfort zone due to my kerr-azy request for a carvery with no carve, when the barman sheepishly (or should that be piggily?) approached to update us on our meal. Apparently the last two dishes had already been plated up, with slices of tortured porcine allocated to both. Now, bear in mind we had just walked a marathon in the pissing rain, and it was edging towards 3.30 in the afternoon. He posed the inevitable question “Is it OK if we just put the pork on your partner's plate?” and my heart sank. But at least he asked, which I suppose is more than most places would do.

My brain had a panic attack so my stomach took over responsibility for the decision-making. I have no knowledge of pork so considered it to be dry, just like chicken and turkey; the only meats I remember eating as a child. I conceded and agreed that would be OK to simply remove the pork. I could eat around the contaminated section and enjoy my much anticipated potatoes. After all, if I had said no then what sort of food snob would I look like?

Our food arrived, delivered by a nervous and very young lady who apologetically laid it on the table and scarpered. Two pork roasts, on two separate plates, drenched in gravy.

I took a large mouthful of cider as the other half tried to remove my pork. But as I saw the meat juices running down and mingling with gravy and roasties, the prospect of another hungry walk home and potato waffles for dinner started to dawn on me. On the bright side, my broccoli survived the apocalypse and I took an eager bite. It took a millisecond to realise the gravy that engulfed every component of my meal was also meat-based. In the excitement of finding food I had forgotten to ask. The cider was quickly downed to anaesthetise my tear ducts.

So let's break this down, and forget the pig-induced nightmare. Aside from that, the vegetables were so overcooked they dissolved upon impact with a fork, the potatoes were cold, and the meal was inexplicably conjoined with a serving of lumpy mash. My 'meatless' version was charged at the same price as a full carvery, and despite neither of us making a dent in this monstrosity we were charged £18 including drinks for the experience, made worthwhile only by a conversation overheard at the bar. Brace yourselves.

“Course you know why we've 'ad all this trouble with flooding down 'ere don't ya? It's all those flood defences they been building up north, pushing all the water down 'ere. It's gotta go somewhere ain't it?”

Well if that's the case then France is fucked and the droughts in Africa should soon be a thing of the past.

Dinner at home was indeed a whole box of potato waffles smothered in veggie gravy and mint sauce. And very lovely it was too.  

Let's Do Cafe, Fore Street

-->
Visited 12th December 2012, at lunchtime.

Let's Do is what you'd expect from a cafe. A greasy spoon if you will, but a five star one at that. Reasonably priced, simple and quick food on a plate, smothered in your choice of sauce, with a cup of tea to wash it all down. Cakes if you please, and free wifi if you want to take your mind off them.

As usual, we order the breakfast. Death on a plate for him, and the large veggie to satisfy my eyes (which are, as usual, bigger than my stomach).  There's lots of choice, but limited for vegans.  In summary the menu consists of fried stuff, jacket potatoes (beans are the only vegan choice), or baguettes (probably not worth considering if you don't want some form of cheese).

After a couple of visits, you notice that the place does get very busy over lunch-time, and the musical ambience leaves a little to be desired. Luckily, the free wifi will keep you distracted from your gurgling stomach. Though there is the usual faint scent of cooking flesh which we are all probably used to by now, it's not an unpleasant location to sit and watch the world pass by.

The vegetarian breakfast consists of beans, mushrooms, toast, hash browns, fried tomatoes and veggie sausages. (Default option is with fried eggs but these can easily be exchanged for an extra sausage or scoop of beans).  As any seasoned vegan should know, Linda McCartney are the best dairy-free sausages you can get without making your own, and that's the level of quality you get here.  Despite the obvious demand for food at 1pm on a Wednesday afternoon, it's served hot, greasy-but-not-cardiac, and fulfilling. Almost the perfect hangover or missed-meal antidote. The only gripe would be that I didn't check whether my veggie special was cooked on the same hot plate as the black pudding- I'd like to say it's a rookie mistake, but admittedly it's something I've chosen to avoid asking in fear of leaving with an empty belly.

I'll continue to visit Let's Do for all my hangover needs and for a nice chat with the friendly cook. They also have a selection of homemade cakes which are great for an afternoon sugar rush, but it's probably safe to say that all contain milk, eggs or butter.

I won't be scoring any of the places I visit as an experience is individual to everyone. Rather, I'd like to hear your opinion of the places I talk about, and those I'm yet to enjoy.

Here's to the next meal!