Okay Christ Church, we get it. You’re big, you’re old, you’re rich. You’ve got a nice little hat as your emblem. Tom Quad is quite pretty, even if your taste in picture galleries is questionable. But six pounds for guest lunch. Seriously? I literally can’t believe that somewhere that must still be rolling in the dollar from appearing as Hogwarts has to charge so much. I mean, thousands of tourists pay you money just to gawp at your stairs. Surely you could at least subsidise the food a little? Or at least give me a little bit more food as an honoured guest trekking down from north Oxford. Next time, indeed if I ever return, you’ll have to claw the change from my cold dead hands before I hand over six pounds of my hard-earned student finance for what was presented to me.
Lunch was, in essence, glorified brunch. And a poor one at that. Essentially, for six pounds I had the choice of slightly fancier beans and sausage or pasta, neither of which I’m a huge fan of. If I’d have wanted mediocre croquettes, I’d reached for the freezer draw. Reeling in shock still after my daylight robbery, I pause to consider the dishes’ flavour. It didn’t take very long, for there was none. Carbs with a undertone of carbs and a hint of tomato sauce was all I got after a few mouthfuls of careful chewing. Looking around Christ Church’s vast dining hall, I see about 20 people in the whole hour I’m there.
I’m told most people don’t come to hall at lunch, and after sampling what it has to offer I don’t wonder why. Even the toffee sponge is tainted. Although light and fluffy, it’s smothered in enough painfully sweet sauce I feel my teeth decaying with every mouthful and my dentist rubbing her hands with glee somewhere back in Leeds. As I chew the final mouthfuls of the lunch I’d have sent back if I’d had paid six pounds for it anywhere else, I look around the hall. I mean, it is very pretty. We’re sitting in front of a lit fi re, and with the crisp day outside, it’s all very Hogwarts pre-Yule Ball-esque. But even if I was Harry Potter with an endless supply of golden galleons in the bank, I still wouldn’t pay for a Christ Church lunch.