Mumma's Café in Tandridge

I came to this establishment in search of a nice meal. I was welcomed kindly at the front desk. All I wanted was to have a drink and go. But no, I was dragged on a long, gruelling tour to the back of the establishment to the outdoor seating. At this point, a middle aged man who seemed to be the manager, sprayed me with a hose. I would say that this was refreshing as it was a hot day, however, I was not pleased to see my t shirt wet. Then, I saw a cat, I took one step toward it and rudely, it ran off. I think I might it might have ran into the woods, thinking I was pest control. I was then taken back into the building and the manager welcomed me to some drinks, of the drinks there were tea, ribena and orange juice. I chose the ribena. Of the drinks, none of them were preferable, but average either way. The outdoor garden itself was nice, the grass was cut, the patio was clean and the chairs were…… mostly comfortable (the manager threw a cushion onto the chair as if the cushion was a boomerang). The cat remained in the shade of a nearby tree, just sitting there like a park bench. The manager himself was a very cheerful and kind person, who gave my dad (a friend of the manager) a bangers and cash mug and notebook for his birthday, not to mention the packet of fruit pastels and a packet of tropical tots (off brand fruit pastels). Every minute I spent in this establishment I wanted to leave. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the cat came to my chair. I didnt think she liked me as she ran off as soon as I stroked her back. The manager told me that she did that with everybody, I would like to think that that would make me feel better, but I felt worse, as if I was now on her “not liking list”. And then, out of nowhere, the wife or the manager arrived. She asked me if I was writing a bad review about her establishment. I replied “yes”. At this point, she removed my ribena from the table.

An interesting spot to try and find a nice cosy family themed brunch. I was initially attracted by the appeal of “fresh scones” and a nice cup of proper tea. What do I find? A watery decaffeinated soup of brown dishwater with low fat milk, and a sugarless farlies rusk of microscopic proportions which simply (and irresponsibly) enabled my sugar addiction via the addition of copious but necessary amounts of strawberry jam. The patrons too were a little alarming. Royalists one and all engaged in some kind of obscure eating competition that must be some traditional element of the local culture. I returned to my country of origin safe in the knowledge that any return to this sorry establishment would be at least a year away.

Asked for a glass of water. Never arrived. Will not be returning if I can help it. Also stir fry far too garlicky.

Nothing best describes this establishment better than distinctly average. From the moment i entered to the glorious moment i managed to leave. I spent 20 minutes at the front desk without even a soul coming to thank me for gracing them with my presence. Finally a cat.. yes a bloody cat, came to greet me and beconed me to follow her. I cannot imagine what possesed me to follow this feline creature however it took me to a table in the back next to the stove. Now this wasn't some kind of chefs table, it was maybe 2 feet from the open kitchen where i could hear the kitchen help moan about me stealing their roast dinner. The sheer gal of it still boggles the mind. food was decent, service poor. After dinner mint was acceptable.