Saturday 23 February 2013

Oxford Rendezvous...we will not meet again.

Oxford Rendezvous


Eight hungover girls,  plan a rendezvous in Oxford; a final reunion before returning to our separate university lives - and where better than Oxford Rendezvous, a little cafe just past the Magdelen Bridge, right opposite a convenient street where we could park our little messy student cars.

Appearance on the outside was adorable; hundreds of delicate patisseries in the shop window and a sweet Farrow and Ball shop frame. The chalk boards of 'panini' 'smoothie' and 'crepe' lured us hungry girls in quickly. I scuttled in, panicking about my lack of change for the parking and sweet talked the charming manager into giving me some change from my tenner. Problem number one (minor and pathetic but relevant nevertheless) NO CHANGE. That was fine. I went to the newsagents across the road.
By the time I got to the cafe, my friends had sat down on a dark table which I told myself I was being picky about and therefore tried to ignore.

The menu made my tummy rumble. Paninis, my comfort food favourite- Tuna Sweetcorn baked potato, crepes galore with divine combinations, Eggs Benedict, Eggs Florentine, Eggs Royale (which they liked to call deluxe - i.e. this along with the laminated menu did not bring classy cafe to mind). Never mind. In the grand scheme of things the menu was great, although it was a good thing I was not on a diet that day as I certainly would not have been able to eat much. (which yes I know is the point of a diet), But there were no salads on the menu.
We ordered some tap water. Three of my friends ordered Orange juice.
I, as per usual was in huge deliberation over what to order. I wanted tuna sweetcorn baked potato - but too typical? I wanted Hawaiian crepe - but would it just be a soggy attempt at pizza? And finally the eggs florentine and royale were screaming out to me. Well, I suppose one thing they got right was making the choice easier for me. No tuna. No pineapple. So I was forced to go for the eggs florentine. That was fine.
Orange juice came- cartoned stuff, I tell myself not to be a snob. We reminded them about the tap water  which we ordered.
I panicked about my order, ran to the counter and asked the managers advice - he suggested the royale, I pull out a sob story about being a student and shouldn't really go for the one pound more expensive dish, he gives me a wink and says he'll do something special for me. And no this is nothing to-do with how I look at this period of time, smudges of last nights make up are all that are left, and I am resorting to wearing my mothers hoodie. So service wise, things are looking up.
The door opens for a long time, letting in the february air. On goes the coat, and another request for our tap water.
15 minutes later - the jug comes with three glasses for us six girls.
25 minutes later - out comes two eggs benedict (of which no-one had ordered). Its pretty awkward as we send them back. They are apologetic, they tell my two friends they mistook their order for they only had to pay 5 of the 7 pounds, five minutes later the correct meal for them comes out.
5 minutes later my 'surprise dish' and my friends florentine comes out.
Now, I may not be an expert on eggs florentine, but surely just a couple of raw spinach leaves is not really adequate for the dish? Clare doesn't seem to mind, and neither do I - we're too bloody hungry and the others tell us to dive in. We do. The toast may resemble something you would get at a diner off the M6, and the hollandaise may have congealed a tad, but overall it was a solid good eggs royale.
Now four of us finished our eggs. Four were still waiting.
Luisa and Sophie shared a cajun chicken wrap which was distinctly average, despite its £6 price tag, and a crepe with 'metallic tasting' scrambled egg, smoked salmon (which is hard to get wrong) and some crappy cheddar no doubt from Lidl. A few of us began to get compulsive laughter at Luisa's expression when trying to eat this crepe, she asked for ketchup, of which they did not have any and later said she would have preferred to have eaten just ketchup.

The anger was brewing amongst my group of friends significantly. And Molly still hadn't got her Goats cheese, Sun-dried tomato and caramelised onion baguette. It had got to the point that we were all fuming/in hysterics about how bad the service and meal was. Molly went up to the counter saying that if they had forgotten about her order, not to worry. They said it would take 'two minutes', well if it was going to take 'two minutes' please explain why Molly's hadn't arrived after four of us had had our plates cleared. (*of course, us being pathetic little twenty year olds we didn't actually say this to them, rather bitched loudly so much so that the middle aged couple next to us got up and left after their order still hadn't come after 45 minutes).

Molly's £6.95 baguette arrived. It was the icing on our cake of disaster. Hysterics broke once again as we opened her baguette to find in each half, there being one measly bit of goats cheese, and the sundried tomatoes and caramelised onion chutney had seemed to be on holiday (no doubt to a better cafe than Oxford Rendezvous). We all had to persuade Molly to complain again, the manager said that he had run out of sun-dried tomatoes, Molly said not to worry about it she would just go to McDonalds on cornmarket - of which she later did.

Claudia soon runs to the loo feeling sick, she has to then sneak into the Men's Loo's to get some loo paper of which the ladies had run out of.

We paid less than we owed, thank goodness - because 8 hungover students, paying with their treasured cash for a crappy meal is not exactly the formula for a brilliant mood when leaving.
Oxford Rendezvous, I truly pray never to have to Rendezvous with you again.



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67-68 High St, Oxford, OX1 4BA
07771 868986



















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