But it is perfect for the environment it sits within. Is Apocalypse Cow the kind of place I would hunt down specifically to eat? Probably not.

Like I said it’s food for the pissed, which I was on my way to becoming.ĭishes are good value with none of the above costing more than £7, and they go rather well with the too sweet cocktails that will keep you buzzing from hole-to-hole. The chips themselves are decent, defibrilated by some rather good korean pork, chilli, spring onions, and a char sui sauce that is too sweet but works well. I don’t care too much for the nachos which are basic in design, but I do like the kamikaze fries. There is no room for tradition here, not when hole four has dildos to navigate around. It tastes like lasagna if some buxom young Italian had made it, not like the version by a hairy nonna rooted in tradition. Likewise the deepfried bits of lasagna encased in a breaded shell that ooze white sauce dotted with mince meat. Strips of chicken breast are tender and come painted in a sriracha sauce that stains the fingers and demands to be washed down with a cold drink. Of the four dishes we try it is the two from the twisted tapas section which work best. In the majority it is food I can get on board with. Big flavours that requires napkins in the immediate and wet wipes the day after when, like me, you’ve overdone it on the hot sauce and life in general. It’s pissed food, in the best possible sense. We skip the burgers and order from across the rest. The menu is a list of booze-friendly products burgers, loaded fries, something called ‘twisted tapas’. In truth I’d barely noticed Apocalypse Cow was here before it’s tucked in the far corner on the route to the bathrooms. Last weekend we tried the different tact of eating. The behaviour is never the best maybe it’s the lack of food and too much booze. Early starts, late starts, midnight runs.

The latter in photo form and thankfully unable to spout his fifty-year old racist routine. Anyway, it’s great fun and a bargain at a tenner an hour or two of negotiating buses, dildos, a gimp in a cage, a pub, and Jim Davidson. Not that they would ever do that, of course the interior would be far too much of a giveaway for the location. Come to think of it, 18 Holes of Brum would make a great name for a porno filmed here. Friends, extended family members, porn stars who want to make sweaty pornos with me, they all get the Ghetto Golf treatment of the loud 90’s hip hop, cocktails, and 18 holes of Brum. Ghetto Golf is the place I always take people who aren’t familar with the city.

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