Chu Chin Chow

Thank goodness for Chu Chin Chow! It was here or the depressed pizza shop (open and empty at 11pm on a Friday night — seriously bad sign, or we were in a teetotal area that looks after their figures and shuns eating after 8pm) that had nary a pizza in progress. Having travelled for most of the afternoon, we were starving by the time we reached our destination — Hampton Court. The hotel bar had already closed down (what?) and no food close to us — only an indication to walk across the bridge and pray.
Well it worked as we found Chu Chin Chow. Not sure they were so happy to see us — but they are technically open til midnight, so we siezed the opportunity. It’s been a while since I was south of the border, and rarely had the boy come with me on visits to my old haunts — so we were treated to a classic north south language divide — lemonade, what? lemonade, come again? leh-​mon-​aide, oh right…
Apart from the snarky service, food was surprisingly good (we really didn’t have high hopes given the time of night and surliness of the waiter) — a giant spring roll (hurray, more beansprouts, less pastry!), fresh cooked mains. Only confusion — barbeque prawns delivered rather than ribs — aye, us Scots are hard to understand… (yeah, the waiter really didn’t understand a word we said).
As a last minute stop, Chu Chin Chow worked a treat, but rather unwelcoming service. Still, it would do if I was in the same predicament again, and it’s a shame that the service wans’t a little more positive, as I would probably be a little more impressed than I was in the end.