Argus readers are the worst: Roundhill named best Brighton roast

This week we have gone deep into the abyss to see how the unthinking masses have reacted to The Roundhill being named Brighton’s best roast.

The Roundhill, Ditchling Road, has been named the best roast in Brighton and Hove at the Brighton Restaurant Awards – a notable accolade given that it is a fully-vegan pub.

Proudly meat-free and family-run, the pub is the work of Max Aben and Rosi Lawrence and has established itself as the leading light on the city’s plant-based food scene through its dedication to innovative culinary concepts.

Whilst simply offering vegan alternatives may have been enough to ensure the success of a business in the past, the UK’s – and more so Brighton’s – food community now demands more. At a time when expectations are on the rise the Roundhill consistently exceeds them, and it’s latest menu is testament to this – a progressive, inventive and crucially delicious collection of plant-based fare that is more fitting of a high end dining room than a humble community pub.

Anyone that has had the untapped pleasure of trying The Roundhill roast will know that this new accolade is well earned, and yet, the braindead horde that The Argus panders to would care to disagree.

To save you all the hassle of going into the hell that is the site’s comment section – and to give the paper a whole lot less clicks in the process – we have collated the general thrust of these unfounded, unfair and often misspelled grievances.

Phase one: Gammons go a bit cannibal and fetishise meat consumption.

As should be of little surprise to anyone that has engaged any white male over the age of 50 in a diestary discourse, the comment section kicks off with a bunch of gammons rattling off some dreary prose about eating meat.

Reckon these blokes have a restraining order from the deli section in Tesco?

Support the farming industry which gets huge support from our taxes anyway? Check. Some rose tinted nonsense about local produce? Check. Something about bacon for some bizarre reason? Almost, two out of three ain’t bad.

Phase two: Descent into culture wars

Wiping the grease of their hammy little digits, the commentariat quickly start prodding at their iPad screens to get a bit of the old culture wars going. In the following example we have a – one would assume – boomer getting a bit antsy and slating millennials for being poor, seemingly not understanding that most are that way because of the repressive socioeconomic climate created by, you guessed it, boomers.

Begun, the culture wars have.

Naturally someone reverts back to the phase one fetisihation of meat with the added Brucie bonus of using a vaguely sexual term for a condiment, wonderful stuff.

Phase three: Denial

Things really start to heat up, and with this increase in temperature, the glue holding rational logic together begins to melt away. Responding to an apparent millennial categorising boomers as status-hungry egotists, the hideously ironically named “Why do this to Brighton?” (Maybe ask yourself one time) goes on the attack by calling? Millennials? Good? People?

Why do this to us?

Suffering a change of heart towards the end of their mini diatribe, the commentator then reverts to the old faithful of the attacked gammon and chastises anyone for criticising their stupid life choices.

Luckily, one brave soul was on hand to dish out the following first-degree burn.

Run under cold water for 2-3 minutes

Phase four: Not understanding what words mean

Having taken offence at the idea of not eating meat, each other, and themselves, the Argus commentators quickly decide to assault the basic meaning of the word “roast”.

For those unfamiliar with the term, the Cambridge Dictionary defines roast as

Verb, to cook food in an oven or over a fire

Seemingly unaware of this, the unthinking horde decry the very validity of the Roundhill roast purely because it has no meat in it, which if nothing else is a damning indictment of the public school system.

Words, apparently quite tricky!

Phase five: Madness

And so we reach the logical conclusion of all this discourse: Complete madness. In no particular order we have someone lying about business closures, someone talking about frontline NHS staff and someone whose screen name is “Brexit by the Sea”.

We’re all mad here

Then, just when you thought we had reached the bottom of the barrel, someone comes along and smashes right through it to show that there are greater depths to our despair than we ever could have imagined.

No comment is necessary, just drink it in.

Sort you dad, out. State of that.

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