Harvester (Berks) vs The Bell, Eckington (Worcs)

A rueful glance at the clock establishes that this is the kind of hour (4pm) that a decent restaurant is not going to be open at. A rueful glance out of the window establishes that this is the kind of place (Reading West) where, even at a suitable hour, finding a decent restaurant might prove a step too far. I of course exclude Mr. Cod at Cemetery Junction from this assessment; a fine establishment, beloved of students and people alike, but not really the kind of place that a group of four can comfortably sit down in.

And so you search on the interwebzlolfail and you realise that your only choice is Harvester. And you go there expecting everything to be entirely inedible but quickly discover that not only is the food edible, it's also vaguely tasty in a cheap, barbecue-sauce-composed-primarily-of-sugar way. Also, at a fiver a head, it's good value, given that you leave the eaterie with a stomach pregnant with - well - a massive mound of chips. Granted, if you go there every day your life expectancy will be significantly compromised, but as a stop gap, you could do worse. At least, you might be able to were anything else open.

If you were to plump for The Bell at Eckington over a Harvester, you would come away wishing that you'd been in Reading at 4pm and therefore not had a choice in the matter. The Bell at Eckington came recommended by both my father and my brother. Dad likes his steak well done, Jo prizes quantity over all else. I should have known not to eat in The Bell at Eckington. Having now endured The Bell at Eckington, I can pronounce The Bell at Eckington to be the second worst restaurant I have eaten in for some time. Until last month, it was streets ahead, but Cafe Rouge in Southgate has since won the prize with an entrecote, served 45 minutes late, that might have proved inedible had I been able to prise it open.

I digress. The Bell's restaurant is a curious space. Very open, but with a low ceiling and overly intrusive spot lights. I would much rather look at the wholly unrepresentative photos of it on the website than be there.

Perhaps all this is too harsh. Thinking back (and this review is *very* late), the starter wasn't actively unpleasant, just ... bland. Boring. The type of starter you find in restaurants that don't really know or care what they're doing. Thai Battered King Prawns with Sweet Chilli Aioli. The aioli, of course, was not an aioli, being just a sauce and most probably out of a bottle. The Battered King Prawns had nothing of the Thai about them. They were, however, both battered and made of prawns. Relatively inoffensive and of a level with food in a Harvester, though less good value.

What I did find offensive was my sirloin steak. I once had a steak in Greece. In Greece, they overcook beef to the other side of well done, and then throw it in the oven for another half an hour just to make sure. In Greece, however, they do not invite an emphysemic cow to cough its guts up over its dead mate and then put it on a plate for you to eat. In The Bell at Eckington, they do this. Truly, they do. And once you've scooped the gloop safely off the steak and onto the other side of the plate, you begin to understand why. The meat is of inestimably poor quality and cooked more badly than it could have been by a Greek in a Harvester kitchen. And for this, they charge £17.

Let this be a warning to you. If you must go and eat in the provinces, do not seek advice from members of my family.