Somewhere for Janners to feel even more posh and that, Yo Sushi has opened a restaurant in the bit of the new Janner Containment Unit (Drake’s Circus Shopping Centre) that is normally reserved for cheap calendars and middle aged women getting their toes nibbled by Garra Rufa fish.
One of the interesting things about the JCU is that if you are seen taking a photograph in there, the “security” staff will come over and tell you to stop or they’ll throw you out, as has happened to me a couple of times. So I think I might start a photo gallery of security staff.
Which restaurant can now hold claim to be Plymouth’s poshest? I’m sure you’ve got an opinion on that.
The ice rink is becoming a bit of a perennial favourite for Janners. Positioned suitably outside Sports Direct (the biggest travesty of a name when you look at both staff and customers alike), the acre of ice allows Janners to race around for half an hour while avoiding egregious little oiks.
Hurrah. We initially had one of these super-offal “restaurants” appear in the JCU a couple of years ago. With the demise of that travel agent and Whittards Tea shop on Old Town Street, we now have a second branch of this D grade poultry chain and this time it’s nearly in the city centre. One cheer for Nandos.
Old Town Street is rapidly becoming a mecca for mid range cafes and sandwich bars (by “mid-range” I mean they don’t sell greasy tea or “all-you-can-eat-fry-ups”) – but with competition like Costa Coffee and Subway it shouldn’t be too difficult to lead the pack. Sadly the council have allowed this culinary atrocity to invade a large space in an area that should be thriving with independents like the excellent Bagatelle perched in the middle of this sea of magnolia bilge.
I am reminded of that old adage: “You can’t polish a turd. But you can roll it in glitter”.
Nandos is that steaming turd and the glitter is the authentic reproduction Portuguese/South American wood veneer that makes a Janner feel all proper posh and that.
Please remember that when you “dine” out at Nandos you aren’t that far up the tree from a KFC and a Bargain Bucket. Just add smiling waiting staff, some hot sauce and double the price.
Affectionately coined the Harrods of the South West, TJ Hughes the failed tat-store is currently closing all of its branches and the Plymouth outlet is in its final days – the final two days to be exact.
I passed by earlier today only to see gaggles of Janner zombies fighting over cut price kettles and perfumes that could blind a mole. It was ugly, it was brutal, yet it showed just how far the locals will go to snare a bargain.
I managed to get a pair of Farahs for a pound, I stole a toaster and my black eye should fade by the August Bank Holiday.
It was also great to see corporate desperation as they proudly decry in every window “all fixtures and fittings for sale”.
Amazingly no mention of Dewdnies or Caspian Fish Bar and none of the five participants were drinking a nice 2006 chilled WKD. Check out the three men and two women as they get down and dirty, managing to create all sorts of things from locally sourced offal.
Barry Chuckle, the older and more attractive half of the comedy duo The Chuckle Brothers has died in Plymouth.
Barry will best be remembered for his pioneering work in child attentiveness with popular classics such as “To me, to you” – initially a song but what was to become Mr Chuckle’s signature call, echoed by students, children and the mentally ill across the country.
Previous reports that Barry had died in a love tryst with a prostitute called Stinky were unfounded and only sought to blight his life.
Barry leaves his partner of seventeen years Gordon, five labradors and a wealth of adoring fans desperate for their next fix of Chucklevision.