The Flowing Spring

For the over twelve years I have lived in Reading I have had The Flowing Spring on my to do list. Every time I drove past it, usually going to or from Henley, I would say to myself 'I must go there', but had never managed it. So a trip to the nearby garden centre to boost the garden for summer seemed like an excellent opportunity and excuse, especially since the garden centre, unusually, does not have a full blown caff (although the coffee van gets rave reviews).

Reading is ringed by garden centres, which seem to regulalry change hands and one day have a Waitrose supermarket and Cotton Trader franchise in store, and the next don't.

Bath Road around Hare Hatch used to be garden centre mile, but Dobbies recently sold their massive site, Sheplands is now something else and other centres lie empty.

So off up the Henley Road it was and then finally on to The Flowing Spring, foolishly leaving our purchases to wilt in the spring heatleaving lessof a flowering spring...

We arrived at 12:30 and the pub was deserted. I was grateful that the large car park was empty since the spaces look tight. It's not somewhere to drive to on a busy day in an SUV, I suspect.

So it does beg the question how this lovely little pub survives, especially since there are two more just off the roundabout and a collection of places to drink a short walk away in Sonning village.

The answer seems to be music and cars. 

There is a large marquee in the garden where regular gigs are held, often with tribute bands, and there are regular car and bike enthusiast meets in the car park.

It's a decent site backing onto the Sonning flood plain, but on a sunny day sitting outside the traffic on the busy Henley Road is intrusive. It's also nearly impossible to get to by public transport with the nearest bus stop being on the roundabout a half pavement less mile away.

I really wanted to love this quirky pub with its great selection of real ales and odball decor playing dad music (I appreciated that Michael Macdonald was on as I walked in). Initially, it seemed like I had found my mothership. Deserted.

It was so empty when we arrived that I shouted out to check if they were open. Another couple arrived after half an hour, but the car park and terrace remained depressingly empty for a Saturday afternoon, which was, perhaps, telling.

The menu is eclectic - the usual burger, fish and chips and pizza, but also some more interesting dishes such as the venison, salmon or veggies with giant Yorkshire puds or the veggie and meat kebabs, and there are a good selection of smaller dishes, sandwiches and baked potatoes.

The beer selection is properly hardcore, many of the beers and ciders are local from Renegade and Tutts amonst others.

My wife decided on good old fish and chips (and it wasn't even a Friday) whilst I was tempted by the chilli, especially the version in Yorkshire puds, but opted for the shwarma kebab since it sounded interesting and I had just been watching John Chantarasak's take on a Thai kebab inspired by Cardif's chippy street on Great British Menu the previous evening. I quite like a riff on a classic. We ordered and it all came to just under £50 with a shandy and a pint of Tutts cider.

Despite being the only punters it took the kitchen a good forty minutes to get up to speed and it truly was not worth the wait.

The fish batter was advertised as glutten free, looked great but tasted a bit chewy - the white fish inside was OK. The chips were standard package large frozen ones and the peas were unmushy, as I believe theyr should be.

Asking for sauces, my wife received tubes of Heinz Tomato sause and Heinz Fish & Chips sauce (which I guess is their version of tartare - who knew that was a thing ? ).

She wasn't very impressed and left more than half of her meal.

My meal was even more depressing. A flatbread just out of the packet and cold, topped with lots of shredded lettuce, tomato, cucumber and red onion, still cold from the fridge, topped with some strange rubbery squiggles of meat that looked like dog food.

I did have two tiny bowls of sauce on the side - a hot one and a yoghurt one, both tatsed vinegary like they had come out of a bottle.

I managed a few mouthfuls and then gave up. It was really bad and pointless.

I was just back from holiday in Egypt so perhaps a kebab was a bad call, but it does astound me that pubs can still get away with food this bad.

I really, really wanted to like The Flowing Spring. I wanted to find an excuse to take an expensive cab here and back as we do to The Mill at Sonning or the Crooked Billet at Stoke Row, but after this experience this would be for the beer and the music.

So, come for the beer, come for the music but on evidence of our lunch, I won't be coming back for the food.