Mediocrity reigns when away

I spend a lot of eating time away from the kitchen and always wonder, "could I do better?". Have to say the answer's often a grumpy "Yes" and today was no exception.
Marooned in Taunton's Holiday Inn - on the same car/park industrial/shopping/estate on the edge of the town as the Express by Holiday Inn - I had a least enjoyed the excellent pool. There didn't seem much prospect of eating anywhere that wasn't a taxi ride away, and I have had not bad experiences at other HI's including Bradford and Calais (well, I know it's in France ....).
At least the blackboard of 'specials' suggested that some of it wouldn't be boil in a bag, head office designed cooking. Wrong.
Ok, I chose 'rough pate' thinking no one can muck that up, and rough at least means it won't be 'Brussels Smooth and Pink'. Wrong. The three kinds of bread were interesting, but fridge cold. Butter, when provided, practically frozen. And the pate, well cold, tasteless and yes, Pink.
My chalky, handwritten special was described as "Whitby Scampi in a sweet and sour sauce on a bed of fragrant rice". Now that sounds like a delicate enough thing, fresh pieces of scampi in a spicyish sauce with rice and a side salad.
Now imagine: a microwaved pile of rice that lost its aromatic qualities - if it ever had any - some time earlier; a pile of breadcrumbed fishy pieces of doubtful provenance - Whitby, not likely - deep fried to an inch of their existence; an even larger pile, a monstrous pile, of previously frozen peas; a tiny dish of sweet and sour sauce that had been zapped. And a typically thrown together side salad of wet lettuce, cold peppers and onions.
What's to complain about? It was what it said - just. Each item was edible - just. It filled a hole - just.
So it didn't meet my expectation, who's fault's that? Mine I suppose for imagining that £20 bought you a decent meal, not one that was just ........

Eating on the run, never great ...

When travelling, days can go by on grabbed sandwiches and indifferent meals out. Monday was to be a case with end-to-end meetings and the last session finishing at 9.30 pm in Worcester – so a stay over needed.
I got a head start with the food, being warned there would be nothing from when I left till bedtime, by taking a brown baguette stuffed with home-made pate (see earlier). This was eaten greedily and in haste after quickly booking in to the Travelodge in the centre of the town. (For those in need ok – big rooms, dull, dull, dull, mine had great view of the Malverns over a forest of air conditioning units for the local shops. Expensive parking.)
Next door there is a Pizza Express open ‘till 11 pm, so look no further. I’ll skip the detail ‘cos here’s a more than detailed review of someone else there recently. For me it was too small, too bland – and that was the Diavolo! – and the only atmosphere that provided by well-oiled take awayers. The staff were efficient and charming.
No, the best pizza we’ve had in a long time was in Mali Velinj in Croatia: sitting on the side of the harbour, fish at our feet, literally. The dough was so good they sold it plain to eat with olive oil. The fish topping … well it hadn’t been dead long. They do take outs …..
At home we’ve settled on Jamie Oliver’s recipe for dough that includes semolina – not flour, the real thing. And a very fine crust it produces. More difficult to adopt his Italian, more is less approach: we’re in the British school of the more the better. Both view points worth exploring by trial and error.