The food here makes Carmel puke. Literally!
We were at The Stag's Head one night and then The Bridge and by then we'd built up a solid case of the munchies. Now the little bags of salty oiled peanuts and Hunky Dorry's rippled crisps and Bacon Fries (which actually contain no bacon, they just look like little strips of rasher) can keep you happy enough when you're in a pub. But, after, you need a good mess of feed from a chipper of some sort when you are truly out on the piss. Little chippers, like the Romas and little Mom & Pop local spots, do the trick quite nicely. Stick to them. At all costs, avoid the brightly-lit Abrakebabras with their early-hours closings and crowds of people inside. The grub might taste good going down-- note I said MIGHT-- but my beloved discovered it is actually manufactured from Pure Evil. She ate this Chip Butty on the night in question; it's a bread roll stuffed with chips and mayonaise, with or without ketchup. As soon as she got home SHE YACKED.
Now before you go thinking it had something to do with the eight pints we'd had as appetizer, I'd have you know she stopped by an Abrekebabra again one noontime not long after for lunch. Totally sober! An hour after eating Abrakebabra chips once again- YACKVILLE.
That's Abrakebabra and they're everywhere. Stick to chippers.
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