TripAdvisor wouldn’t let me leave a zero-star review. Pity that. This restaurant deserved it. Hence the one star. Abysmal, awful, horrible, and every other synonym for bad. About the only good thing I can say is it was clean. As far as I could see.

Yes, we were a large party, but I think that we were American was the bigger problem. Our sojourn in London began when we were overwhelmed by the choices and wary due to the reputation of English food. We were hungry. So, what does a large group of hungry people decide on? Chinese. It suits everyone.

We were the only clientele. That should have been a warning, but we were jetlagged.

Nobody seemed to speak English–not even the language that passes for English in Great Britain. I have never been to a foreign country before where I had such a hard time understanding people. I think Mark Twain described it as two countries separated by a common language.

Anyway.

Right off the bat, I got us off on the wrong foot. I ordered something innocuous and an egg roll with Chinese hot mustard. Our, very rude I might add, server was honestly perplexed. “No have!” I thought it was a language barrier. I tried again. Slower and louder. Chiiiiiii-neseeeeee hotttttttt musssssssssstardddddddddddd.

Nope. She’d never heard it. What’s the point of an egg roll without Chinese hot mustard?

The person next to me attempted to order off the menu. She wanted a bowl of rice and stir-fried broccoli. She nearly caused an international incident. I can see us trying to explain to the American consulate now. It was just a flippin’ bowl of rice and broccoli. Nope. Never heard of it. “Not on menu!”

It was downhill from there. There were ten of us. By the tenth person, he just pointed at a random menu item and the server nodded — pleased that at least one of us was reasonable.

The soup arrived. We didn’t know soup was involved. Spirited debate erupted as we tried to figure out what it was supposed to be. We ultimately settled on dishwater with soy sauce and wilted spring onion.

Then my soggy eggroll sans hot mustard arrived. It had the texture of mashed potatoes and was even more bland.

Another incident nearly occurred with a request for an artificial sweetener for the tea. I know I know, but if she wanted Splenda in her tea, why should the server object? “No! No!” she said. “No Splenda!” Sort of like Soup Nazi. You could just hear the “for you” tacked onto the end.

Our entrees arrived. Broccoli and Rice Woman was pissed off. Upon learning she could not get broccoli and rice in a bowl, she ordered fried rice. She was served something approximating limp beef in a heavy oily sauce with peapods.

A person on the other side of the table erupted. He had been clearly and rudely told,  “No pea pods. Not on menu.”

Hold your horses! Rice and broccoli weren’t on the menu either as the woman next to me seethed while I was served a rice and broccoli dish with what I think was supposed to be a cashew sauce. There might have been bits of chicken. Hard to tell the difference between tough chicken and mushy cashews.

Splenda woman had no remarks to make about her entrée, but she looked glum beyond the simple absence of an artificial sweetener.

We ate or began to eat, in silence. Not one of us ate more than a few bites. Truly inedible.

Now I was not surprised at the absence of fortune cookies and was, in fact grateful. I know from somewhere they’re an American thing like chop suey. Besides, I wouldn’t want a fortune from this restaurant. I didn’t want the trip doomed before it even began.

With the exchange rate, we paid nearly $35 American each for these, um, meals and left hungry. Rude service, bad food. Zero stars.