I really need to stop eating ‘southern’ food in London. I mean, you know it’s a slew of disappointment when I have the need to go back and put southern in quotes…
Last Saturday the man & I went to Joe’s Southern Kitchen in Convent Garden. I’d read something good somewhere and the menu pressed all the right buttons. We skipped breakfast and went straight here to fuel up before doubleheader Emirates Cup. In the interest of sharing and caring, we ordered a bunch of smaller things to share. How good (and gluttonous) does this sound: crispy wings, cornbread, popcorn shrimp, artichoke dip, mac’n’cheese with spinach, whipped potatoes, and a pulled pork bun.
Ahh, what an expensive disappointment!
To be fair, the pulled pork was ok. (The man rated it best of the lot.) And the mac’n’cheese was tasty, even if it did create its own pool of grease. But the rest… Look, I don’t know what happened to that cornbread. Do they really think it should have the consistency of PlayDoh? And did they actually add sugar to the mashed potatoes? And did the waiter really think the artichoke dip is the best thing on the menu, or did he see a soft touch? But the real disappointment was the wings. Because if they hadn’t been burned, they would have been amazing! We kept an eye out and everybody’s fried chicken was burned so that must be the plan.
I’m not sure these guys first discovered southern food.
But if they’re actually from the South, their mawmaws must be rolling over in their graves.
It will be ages until we can make a proper trip to the land of biscuits & honey. But until then, I’m saving myself for Mama’s.
Joe’s Southern Kitchen, 34 King Street
Troubling footnote: Oh man. Obviously I haven’t been home in ages. Mama’s closed last year. I’m going to lay down and cry.