Butchers Social – Dorridge

Recently, Salt Bae said, “Now everybody wants to be a butcher because of me. Now, if you ask a kid, they want to be Salt Bae. They see me as an idol. I’m an inspiration to a lot of people in a very short period of time.”

It’s a terrifying prospect isn’t it? A world where EVERYBODY wants to be a butcher. Everybody. 7.9 billion butchers.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” asks the former careers advisor, who is now a butcher, to their child.

“A butcher, you daft bastard,” little Penelope replies.

Thing is, it is do-able. There are 25.9 billion chickens in the world, so that’s like 3 chickens each for us to chop up. There are only about a billion cows and 900 million pigs, so there’d certainly be some admin involved for us to figure out who gets to do those.

We’d also probably need part time jobs to keep everything else going. Chicken delivery people, for example.

Anyway, it’s something for us all to think about. Perhaps keep this as a conversation topic for your next Sunday lunch with family members?

Moving on

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – I don’t like going out for Sunday roasts, as 90% of the time they’re shite and I can do it better myself. Last weekend I let my guard down and agreed to go out for one.

The Butchers Social used to be in Henley-in-Arden, I went a couple of times, the food was always good but the service on both occasions left a lot to the imagination. They’ve now taken over what was the Forest in Dorridge, a frankly massively underachieving venue where I’d only ever go for nothing more than a drink, when waiting for a train.

The Butchers Social’s moved, but they’ve taken their very popular chicken wings with them – and for good reason. Ask for flavours, it said on the menu.

“What flavour chicken wings are on offer?”

“BBQ, Buffalo, Vindaloo and Jerk. Be warned, the jerk are very spicy.”

“I’ll take the jerk then, don’t dare assume what will be spicy for a FoodieBoy.”

“Ok, a small or large portion?”

“What’s the difference?”

“6 or 12 wings.”

“Removing those could one day be the job of three or six people.”

“What?”

“When we’re all butchers.”

“What?”

“6 please.”

The Jerk wings were alright, they didn’t really taste how I would associate jerk to taste, and they weren’t particularly spicy. The BBQ ones were good though.

On to the roast, “I bet he’s going to roast it,” you’re thinking. Well, hold your horses my butcher friend, no, I’m not, as it was really good.

Roast sirloin of beef, cauliflower purée and red wine sauce were accompanied by actually crispy roast potatoes and a decent selection of veg. Have a photo.

It was really good, excellent even. The beef was beautiful, the purée and sauce was cracking. They also provided an extra jug of red wine sauce so you didn’t have to worry about begging for more, which is always a worry during a Sunday outing.

Also, it’s worth noting that the service was absolutely miles apart from what I’d experienced in their previous venue. All the waiting staff were friendly and attentive, they’ll be excellent butchers one day.

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