Restaurant Review: McDonald's Raspberry & White Chocolate Pie

"Limited Time Only" "Caution HOT!" "Scan for nutrition and allergen information." "A red short crust pastry pie with a raspberry and white chocolate filling." "Served hot." 

Not my words, but those of the McDonald's Corporation. 

Do you like McDonald's hot apple pies? Well, there's a new kid on the block (Limited Time Only) with all the potential for molten fruitish-filling shenanigans as its more sensible, workaday brother. But wait, this guy's packing white chocolate too? What is white chocolate? Seems to be chocolate without the colour you normally associate with chocolate i.e. chocolate. Let's agree it's probably cooked sugar diluted with milk. Best not to delve too deeply, imo. The raspberry bit? I'm guessing that's jam minus time. I'm no expert, but am expecting sweet.

To give the crunch-enveloped, fruit-based dessert its best chance I went for controlled conditions. Nothing else was eaten beforehand, and I tried to act as quickly as possible for the hottest of results. 

*consumes pie*

The Verdict: If you don't like McDonald's hot apple pies, this babe isn't going to change your mind about big Ron's dessert offerings. I've got a sweet tooth (and some right bastard ones too lol) but was fearing this would be off the charts. Not so. About the same as the apple one. Because of gravity (perhaps a complete control experiment would involve eating one in a vacuum or space - if anyone wants to set that up I'm game) there was an uneven spread of filling (therefore flavour) throughout the six inches or so (careful) of food. As a result there was a definite hit of raspberry halfway down. Further experiments may ascertain whether this was due to "white chocolate" diluting the raspberry flavour elsewhere, or just a big old dollop of the red stuff lurking halfway down. 

Overall, three stars out of five: not for everyone, but in its field a potentially compelling effort (much like Underworld's 'Beaucoup Fish' album of 1999).

I'm not made of money, so limited myself to one experimental pie this time. I think I'd prefer a raspberry one without the so-called white chocolate interference. It seemed to only muddy the waters, ironically. I had a latte afterwards, which was leng.

The Smyths (sic), 13/1/24, Shepherd's Bush Empire

 "There is an obvious media shift to delete me from being the central essence of The Smiths, but this cannot work because I invented the group, the name, the song titles, the album titles..."

So moans Morrissey. In the words of Father Ted (when found with a stash of nazi memorabilia), you do get a bit more right wing as you get older. I'm not going to discuss or defend 'Bengali in Platforms' here, but from that first solo L.P. 'Viva Hate' the journalists were wondering... and now it's widely accepted that The Moz (to give him his full name) has gone nuts. Not quite Neil Oliver/Russell Brand/Right Said Fred nuts, but enough to worry anyone with an allergy.  

The Smyths: banter lads obviously.
(Sorry Jon, didn't make it in time to see you.)

Parking that, what about The Smyths? First I'd heard/seen of them was last night's show at The Shepherd's Bush Empire, a 2,000-seat venue that was 90% full. Apparently they've been going since 2003, gaining the confidence to become their own Smiths/Moz-solo hybrid. They were witty, efficient and put on a splendid show. Take their mock Morrissey (Mockrissey?) Graham Sampson away however, and you could've been in The Bell & Compasses watching Any (very good) Pub Band. The Smyths prove Morrissey right: The Smiths were mostly frontman, and the other guys Johnny, "Bruce and Rick"* were great musicians rightly loved, but come on...

From last night's show, and The Smyths' Facebook.
Photo: Steve Millgate

Back to The Smyths. Last night they were introduced by longtime fan and heralder of the cause, Jeremy Vine. You'll be pleased to read he was greeted with boos, and shouts of "bike nonce!" Frankly, the whole enterprise was worth its two-decade gestation for this moment alone. Would recommend. The star of the show was frontman (see!) Graham Sampson (Grammossy? Needs work). He certainly has the haut. The walk to the microphone stand, rehearsed endlessly no doubt, told me (as it would you) they were going to have a proper go at it. He's got the voice to around 86-92%, only a reediness in the higher registers letting him down (he chooses to go low at some telling points, and just about gets away with it). His dancing was less fluid than the real thing and tailed off as the night went on, but this was their biggest night so some slack cutting is in order I reckon. He was dressed incidentally as 'Vauxhall and I'-era Mozzer [citation needed], before the hair went grey, and when suits became his costume du jour. Earlier photos on their website show the paisley-shirt-open-at-the-navel, flower-throwing days have also been covered. 

They were supported by their own bootleg Billy Bragg, 'Billy Blagg' (Jon Hunt, also enjoying the biggest night of his musical life). Lovely stuff. 

Jeremy Vine (bike nonce) and Graham Sampson (the voice)

The high point for me was 'That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore,' faultlessly done. They also excel at the 'Panic' and 'Sheila Take A Bow'-type thumpers. Criticisms? They lack swing. 'Girlfriend in a Coma' and 'Ask' definitely have a bit of swing about them, but here they were rendered motorik four-to-the-floor rock numbers. Again, this could be their evolution over 20 years and none of my business, but it was a musical minus point. This heavy-handed approach, which I have to blame on the drummer (Myke Joice?), marred the inevitable encore 'How Soon is Now.' Less the throbbing, sprawling joy of the original, it became a military two-step down the nape of my neck. A shame, because the different versions of 'How Soon...' show how encoreable it can be. Their Johhnny-come-lately Marr Andy Munro (Anndy Murr? Munnrossey? Again, needs work) played all the right notes in the right order, but he has the wrong guitars. Johnny Marr uses a Fender Jaguar, in fact he has a signature model built to his own specification. He discovered that he could get "the Jag" (to give it its full name) sound like any other guitar. I wouldn't begrudge Andy Munro having three guitars on stage, but visually they'd have to be a cherry red Gibson ES-335, A cherry red or gold-top Gibson Les Paul** and a Fender Jaguar. Crowdfund it lads, it'll be worth it.

The Smyths then; very, very good. What next? They can keep touring indefinitely I presume, not having to wait for the next album as an excuse. Perhaps follow them on Instagram and Facebook, to see if they're in the provincial town you jut round soon.

The Smyths, quite literally at a crossroads.

*Talking to Stuart Maconie, when asked about his old band mates... "I love and have loved Johnny Marr, but I haven't heard from Bruce or Rick." A reference to Bruce Foxton and Rick Buttler of The Jam, discarded by Paul Weller when he morphed into The Style Council.

**Johnny Marr has a big guitar collection and would've used many different ones over the years, but those three are his most recognisable imvho.