When I phoned to book a table, I was asked for a name, I gave it and spelled it for the server and was told that I'd "said 'Anna' and then spelled something stupid" - her words, not mine. Anyhow, once we'd established my "stupid" name, I went ahead and completed our table booking for the Sunday lunch seating.
We arrived, ungreeted and had to resort to aimlessly wandering through the bar area to find a server, eventually we found her, having a coke at the bar. Obviously.
Once at our table for two, snugly nestled into a cramped corner, we managed approximately five minutes of rave-grotto-style flash lighting before we had to ask to move tables. I have photo-sensitive seizures and am definitely more prone to lights acting as an irritant, however my partner does not and even his head was pounding - this shouldn't be an unreasonable demand; however, our waitress had all the compassion (and capability for customer service) of a yeti and seemed totally bemused by this request. Eventually after a great deal of faffing we managed to get the mini-disco switched off and hoped to continue with our much anticipated roasts. But first I had to swap my broken chair for a safer one.
Whilst waiting, I had a clear view of the hatch into the kitchen and I was treated to the sight of one of the team fingering my potatoes onto my plate - yum...
The roasts arrived at the table; we'd both opted for beef. They had everything you'd want - meat, potatoes, cabbage (red and green), parsnips, horseradish, carrots, roasted garlic - the lot, but it was all in a rather bizarre ratio: I personally think a roast needs more than two potatoes (even groped ones) and two baby carrots. All the veg was underdone and the parsnips near raw. That said, the beef itself was DELICIOUS and the meat portion was more than plenty. So, thumbs up for beef.
All in all, I was disappointed by The Winchester, by its food, but moreover by its appalling customer service. This is one Winchester I wouldn't go to again, not even in a zombie apocalypse.
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