Leek House

Is there a restaurant near here? There’s an awfully good little Welsh place – Leek House – about five minutes’ walk. You’d have to go straight away.

These shrinks don’t half like to get their snack on. We’re back for another bite at this episode – and after an hors d’oeuvre of frog’s legs and onions round your neck, you can chow down on…whatever the fuck they eat in Wales. Cheese on toast and seaweed cakes or some shit. Whatever it is, it’s probably in abundance down at Leek House.

That was a little bit hysterical and I’d like to put it on record that I like Welsh people and have a fair few friends who are. Welsh. Approximately four. Maybe five? I haven’t checked because I don’t really care where people are from. Though considering the population of Wales as a percentage of Britain, five-ish friends is pretty on point.

Regardless, the food I mention is pretty good. Well, Welsh rarebit is. Which all the kids at my school thought *was* just cheese on toast. Stupid yokel twats. It absolutely is not. It’s got mustard, Worcester sauce and a whole load of other shit in it. If my mum made you her version of it, you would demand to eat it for every meal for the rest of your life. Never had laverbread, though, but they swear by it. It’s not even bread, so fuck it, let’s go.

So head on down to Leek House in Torquay wearing this t shirt and get yourself a complementary dragon rendered in Caerphilly. Not really. It’s fictional and 50 years old.

The design, yes, sorry. Welsh font, leek, ‘Welsh cusine’ in Welsh. This shit writes itself. Colour scheme swiped from what Americans think is healthy food for no reason other than most ‘proper’ restaurants are tediously monochromatic and most mainstream ones are a day-glo nightmare.