The Copper Kettle
Lower Goat Ln
Norwich
NR2 1EL
01603 626870
ddd
It's easy to miss Lower Goat Lane, hidden as it is, behind the flourescent fanfare of the facades of the Tesco Metro that lies in front of it. It is, however, an intruiging little street with all manner of small indepdent shops selling or offering various services. The Copper Kettle is hard to find unless you know you're looking for it. Aside from being located some way off the beaten track, it just seemed to blend in to its surroundings like a well kept secret. The interior was strange. Gloomy, dark and slightly dingy, adorned with various copper kettles, and idea which wasn't as clever an idea as the person who conceived it probably thought it was. To add to the confusion the tables were clad with brightly covered, laminate table clothes depicting fruit and breakfasts which seemed rather a token and inadequate measure to counter the subdued ambience. Personally I might have invested the kettle money in to something more urgently required like, say, windows perhaps. Out of the darkness a large woman moved ungracefully towards us, looking like what I can only describe as a Gothically dressed Aunt Bessie. She appeared about as cheery as you might expect someone dressed almost entirely in black, dwelling in equally sombre surroundings to be. We sit. 'What do you want?' She asks, giving us precious little time to purvey the large, leather bound menus that are obscuring our view of each other. I don't know, a welcoming smile? A loud, cheery, booming laugh? With this apparently off the menu, I settled for some breakfast. The food didn't come at the same time, which is always a little irritating and makes the place seem a little amateurish. There are few things more annoying, in a breakfasting context at least, than either having to eat with the rest of your hungry party watching you, or being part of the hungry party watching someone else.
ddd
However, the biggest occurance of note came at the end of the meal when we asked to pay for our food. What followed was a ridiculous disagreement over orange juice. A member of our party ordered a small glass, but was served a big one. Frankly, he wasn't to know that, and it was never made clear that it was a big glass when it arrived. He was then charged for the big glass, and when he noted that he had ordered a small one, Bessie concluded that whilst that might be true, since he had drunk was in the midst of digesting a large glass he would have to pay for one. Frankly, a ludicrously stupid way to treat customers. The place already looked like a gathering of picnic tables in the midst of deepest Mordor as it was, service with a smile was the only thing capable of salvaging it. Surly, morose restuarant oweners who endeavour to make you feel that they are doing you a favour by serving you aside, the food was fairly average and quite overpriced. The leather bound compendium of breakfast options to choice from was also a little excessive, but neither of those issues did as much to ruin the experience as a whole more than the uncomfortalble uneasiness of sitting there, and the woeful customer service.
Lower Goat Ln
Norwich
NR2 1EL
01603 626870
ddd
It's easy to miss Lower Goat Lane, hidden as it is, behind the flourescent fanfare of the facades of the Tesco Metro that lies in front of it. It is, however, an intruiging little street with all manner of small indepdent shops selling or offering various services. The Copper Kettle is hard to find unless you know you're looking for it. Aside from being located some way off the beaten track, it just seemed to blend in to its surroundings like a well kept secret. The interior was strange. Gloomy, dark and slightly dingy, adorned with various copper kettles, and idea which wasn't as clever an idea as the person who conceived it probably thought it was. To add to the confusion the tables were clad with brightly covered, laminate table clothes depicting fruit and breakfasts which seemed rather a token and inadequate measure to counter the subdued ambience. Personally I might have invested the kettle money in to something more urgently required like, say, windows perhaps. Out of the darkness a large woman moved ungracefully towards us, looking like what I can only describe as a Gothically dressed Aunt Bessie. She appeared about as cheery as you might expect someone dressed almost entirely in black, dwelling in equally sombre surroundings to be. We sit. 'What do you want?' She asks, giving us precious little time to purvey the large, leather bound menus that are obscuring our view of each other. I don't know, a welcoming smile? A loud, cheery, booming laugh? With this apparently off the menu, I settled for some breakfast. The food didn't come at the same time, which is always a little irritating and makes the place seem a little amateurish. There are few things more annoying, in a breakfasting context at least, than either having to eat with the rest of your hungry party watching you, or being part of the hungry party watching someone else.
ddd
However, the biggest occurance of note came at the end of the meal when we asked to pay for our food. What followed was a ridiculous disagreement over orange juice. A member of our party ordered a small glass, but was served a big one. Frankly, he wasn't to know that, and it was never made clear that it was a big glass when it arrived. He was then charged for the big glass, and when he noted that he had ordered a small one, Bessie concluded that whilst that might be true, since he had drunk was in the midst of digesting a large glass he would have to pay for one. Frankly, a ludicrously stupid way to treat customers. The place already looked like a gathering of picnic tables in the midst of deepest Mordor as it was, service with a smile was the only thing capable of salvaging it. Surly, morose restuarant oweners who endeavour to make you feel that they are doing you a favour by serving you aside, the food was fairly average and quite overpriced. The leather bound compendium of breakfast options to choice from was also a little excessive, but neither of those issues did as much to ruin the experience as a whole more than the uncomfortalble uneasiness of sitting there, and the woeful customer service.
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