Clem de la Clem

With Kevin Wright




Look out Mary Cherry, heads up Gordon Hollywood, there’s a new food critic ready to take the world of food criticing food-criticising food reviews by storm. It is I, Kevin Wright! Yesterday I began my adventures with a trip to Edinburgh, to visit a brand new buffet restaurant by the name of ‘Ale You Can Eat’, which specialises in using a variety of alcoholic beverages in its cooking.


I arrived at Waverly Station at precisely 5:32 in the evening; several hours before my booking at the restaurant. To kill some time I decided to walk there, and after asking a kindly stranger for directions (he revealed his name to be Derek) I set off!


Four or five hours later, I was several miles along the M8 headed towards Glasgow – which lacked a pavement for pedestrians, I might add – and began to fear I may have taken a wrong turning. I decided the best course of action would be to ring the restaurant for help (unfortunately, by now my reservation had long since passed).


“Hello?” answered the restaurant manager.


“Greetings! It is I, the famous Kevin Wright”


“Kevin who?” she responded. Rude, frankly, although she claimed to be unfamiliar with the French pronunciation.


“I’m afraid I have become somewhat lost, could you possibly give me some directions to your fine establishment?”


“Err, of course Mr Ree-Ger-Ter [a terrible attempt at pronunciation], may I ask where exactly you are right now?”


“Sat on the embankment of the M8, not far from the turn-off for Livingston.”


She accused me of being a prank-caller and hung up.


My situation was dire. I was lost, had no dinner reservation, and was feeling rather peckish. As luck would have it, salvation was at hand; in the distance I spotted a quaint looking restaurant by the name of ‘Little Chef’, and decided to try it.


Dear readers, I cannot speak highly enough of the so-called Little Chef. The décor was minimalist and totally lacking in pretension, with the beige coloured walls offering a homely, welcoming glow. The chairs were sturdy, yet comfortable. As I was the only customer there, the staff were most welcoming too. Maureen, who took my order, recommended the fish and chips. Alas, seafood has often proved to be my undoing, and so I declined. In fact, the entire menu proved to be somewhat too exotic for me. However I contented myself to three portions of chips, which I must say were cooked to perfection, and a cup of coffee (decaf, of course).


I stayed at the restaurant for around an hour before deciding it was probably time to leave. I left the lovely Maureen a sizeable tip, before calling a taxi. On the way home, I regaled the taxi driver – who revealed his name to be Terry – with tales of my adventure that day, and recommended that he try out Little Chef sometime. Terry wore an expression of bemusement throughout my storytelling. I have since concluded that the intricacies of the food criticing food-criticising food reviewing industry must have been lost on him.


In conclusion, I am awarding Little Chef an impressive score of 9.5/10. With regret, I have deducted half a mark for the following reasons. Firstly, its position along a major motorway makes pedestrian access somewhat difficult. Secondly, I felt that the menu was at risk of straying into decadence; the fact I was able to only eat chips speaks volumes. Nevertheless, my experience there was wholly positive, and I have every intention of returning (preferably in a car next time).


The editors of Uuh! Magazine have since given me quite the telling off for not actually reviewing the restaurant I was supposed to, so next week’s issue will consist of my second attempt to find the elusive Ale You Can Eat.



Issue #1: Ale You Can Eat  Little Chef