Morley’s

/mɔːrleɪs/

Chatting at a pub I discovered that people write reviews for newspapers having not bothered to use or consume the product they have been sent for free and paid to write about. Rather than turn mild embarrassment at my small-town naivety into a stream of anti-slippery-southerner invective, here at the newly ambitious Southern Oatcake blog I say I want a piece of that action! So desperate am I to board this gravy train I’ve actually bought something with my own money to review. So, to any editor out there who wants these tekkers on their pages, please send your offer of merch and cash to swagman77@aol.com, or even better get at me in the comments below.

The problem with most reviews-for-hire is that they are either for high-profit-margin middle-class accessories, think Peloton bikes, or are bought by the thousand for electronic crap from Amazon. Here at Southern Oatcake the reviews are for vital supplies for the everyday working Joe and, err, Janet? And in this case specifically for anyone at Brockwell Park Bus Stop G with six of His Noble Majesty’s quids in his or her pocket. Or in the modern parlance, 0.006 large. The menu price may have been £5.99, but I got finessed on the 1p change.

What am I talking about? The Brockwell Park branch of Morley’s of course! For those who know, you know. For those who don’t, here’s a quick restaurant FAQ to get you started.

What do they sell? Chicken.

What do I get for £6? Fillet burger, chips, 2 spicy wings, can of Strawberry Mirinda.

What is the dining experience like? The options are eating it at home, eating it on the 68/ 468/ 322/ 196 bus, dining like a king on the 3 (New Routemaster, very stylish), or standing at the Morley’s side bar next to the bins. I chose to consume at home.

Are they on Deliveroo? Yes, but they will do man for an extra £1.60 on a Fillet Burger Meal.

Where have I heard of them before? Aspirational friend of the blog Amelia Dimoldenberg takes a lot of rappers on dates to various Morley’s, including this particularly touching example with aspirational friend of the blog Central Cee. The reader is left to assign the aspiration to the person.

Is this still a review? Yes! Check out the goods below. No, stop looking at my blinged-up 4 slice toaster, we are talking about the bounty in the foreground.

To the starter! On the left we have two spicy wings in a waxed paper baggy. I think if bossman is honest with himself here, he did forget to put breadcrumbs on one of the wings. While this isn’t top level service, I’m going to let this one slide. A chicken has been hatched, raised, slaughtered and chopped up for one part of its wing to be transported, partially breaded, fried and sold to me at a profit for 49.5p. Don’t be fooled by the park-side location, this ain’t The River Cottage, bossman has got logistical issues to think about while he’s cooking up my dinner. So although I received a meagre 50% of the expected cronch, these are 4 star wings- hot, juicy and tender with a fire-filled flavour.

To the fire extinguisher! We’re talking about Strawberry Mirinda. The connoisseur’s choice. The only choice. Well no, they have Pepsi, Fanta, Tango (shout out). But don’t show your lack of knowledge in front of the regulars like that. It is a matter of self respect to order Mirinda. Orange is acceptable, but just buy Strawberry. Regret is impossible. Unless you have blood sugar issues, in which case regret will be inevitable with this one.

To the main course! The chicken fillet burger with chips packaged in the environmental crime scene in the centre. All of the problems happened in this box. Let’s zoom in.

Fully half of the bun is lettuce only. The cost of living crisis has hit bossman. But not necessarily the energy part. My mini-fillet still got the full fry time so it was crispy and dry, tasting almost as much of vegetable oil as chicken. On the plus side, I could use the lettuce half of the burger to top up the hydration levels.

Of the chips there is little to say. A potato or two was chopped up and fried for almost long enough to form fries. A little soft, a little damp, but edible. Or they were until I tried to salt them. Bossman likes to include the paper sachets of salt and pepper in the same box as the chips. During the short walk home this turned in to an osmosis-driven disaster. Once the paper sachet absorbs moisture the salt clumps together, so when you “sprinkle” it on the chips, it goes as shown below. And yes, thanks for noticing, the photography vibe I was going for was the Starship Enterprise rising above a new world. And yes, the overall saltiness did work out in the average, but it’s hard to give more than 2 stars to the burger box.

A final, helpful, FAQ to finish.

Should I go to Morley’s? I would say yes. Wings aside, you roll the dice, but both the calories and protein mass per GBP is high.

I’m stood at Brockwell Park Bus Stop G, your review has put me off Morley’s and I am a massive baller with £8 to spend. Where should I go? Try out Saray a few doors down. Takeaway wraps from £8, and on some nights they have a guy playing clarinet in there to entertain you while you wait. Or head in the opposite direction down the road to Olley’s Fish Experience and get the Small Appetite Menu. Small fish, loads of chips (salted in-restaurant with zero clumpage guaranteed) and mushy peas also for £8. Plus bosslady always gives me a few fresh chips to eat while I wait. Maybe she likes me, maybe she likes my near-closing time custom, but I’ll be back either way.