A very critical view of the food offerings on board the Queen Anne world cruise, warts an all.

 A Culinary Tragedy

Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I am not a man who requires vast, mountainous portions of food heaped upon my plate like some grotesque offering to the gods of gluttony. No. I prefer to be selective. To choose small, exquisitely prepared morsels, food that is cooked with care, with precision, with respect for the ingredients.  

And yet, and yet! such a thing appears to be utterly, catastrophically impossible on this floating purgatory you call a ship.  

The Fish Fiasco

Take the fish, for example. A simple request, a piece of fish that is fresh, flaky, moist, and not resembling either a piece of cardboard or something that has been left out in the Sahara for a fortnight. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, it is.  

Here, the fish exists in two states, and only two states:  

1. The Shrivelled Specimen– So thin, so overcooked, it has contracted into a sad, brittle relic of what might once have been edible.  

2. The Fossilised Slab– Thick, yes, but left under the heat lamp so long it has achieved the texture of a paving stone.  

And let’s not even discuss the so-called fish and chips in the pub. One day, it’s a perfectly decent piece of white fish. The next? A slimy, grey atrocity that should never have left the kitchen, let alone been presented to a paying guest.  

Now, I understand, oh, how I understand—that availability can be an issue. But let me offer a radical suggestion:  If the product isn’t good, take it off the menu. Yes! Remove it! Do not serve it! Do not insult your passengers with substandard offerings!  

The Britannia Restaurant – A Lone Beacon of Hope at lunch.

The only place where we have found any semblance of decent food is the Britannia Restaurant at lunchtime. 

The menu may be light and fluffy, without any of the chefs unnecessary complication, but at least the quality is consistent. The kitchen isn’t trying to perform miracles—it’s just cooking proper food in proper quantities. And miraculously, it works.  

The Corinthian Lounge – A Tale of Betrayal

Then there’s the Corinthian Lounge, where I often retreat for their open sandwiches on German dark rye bread, Or at least, that’s what they should be serving. For two weeks, two weeks, they inexplicably switched to ordinary brown bread. And when questioned, the Food and Beverage Manager stood spellbound and amazed, eyes glazed. Uttering, Why,  we have proper rye bread sitting there in stock as we speak!

Instant action. The following day we return to normal service. But why?

Still, at least the Corinthian is hassle-free. No queues, no chaos, just fresh food that you can take away and enjoy at leisure. Why can’t the rest of the ship operate like this? 

Why must we engage in military-level strategising just to secure a decent meal?  

The Buffet – A National Disgrace

And don’t get me started on the buffet.

The sandwiches there are curled up at the edges like something you’d find at a British Rail station in 1973. 

The afternoon tea in the Queen’s Room, on the rare occasion we visit is done properly, and is splendid—but up in the buffet? A travesty.  

The Uncomfortable Truth

Perhaps, just perhaps, Cunard is now catering to a different clientele. Perhaps the modern passenger is perfectly content to shovel down vast quantities of inferior slop without complaint. But that is not what we have come to expect from this once-great line.  

In the past, we were spoilt for choice. Now? We are spoilt, full stop.

Disgraceful.

Other side of the coin - 28/3/2025 Indian Ocean

Now, let me tell you something. I have been, without question, one of the most vocal critics, some might say the most vocal, when it comes to the lamentable state of the food aboard Queen Anne. Mediocrity has, sadly, been the order of the day. 

But, and this is a big but, credit must be given where credit is due. My recent experience at Anya, the Indian restaurant on deck 9 aft. Well, it was nothing short of extraordinary. A triumph. A culinary revelation in a sea of disappointment. Every detail, every flavour, every moment was executed with precision, passion, and flair. For once, I find myself not complaining, but applauding. And believe me, that doesn’t happen often. Memorable? Oh yes. For all the right reasons."

Prepare yourselves. it is a flavour explosion of staggering brilliance. The dishes? Astounding, The service? Impeccable. The characters who bring it all to life? Unforgettable.

Let us begin with the Pompadon, crisp, golden, and served with a mint yoghurt and mango chutney dip so divine, you’ll want to bathe in it. Yes, it’s that good and marvellous for your complexion.

Then comes the soft shell crab, crispy, succulent, a masterpiece full of flavour that amasses in your mouth.

The pork belly, sticky, melting, unctuous, a triumph. But why the bun? 

And what’s this to follow? A ball full of flavour. Has to  be eaten whole, whatever it is, it’s sensational.

But wait another Amuse-bouche, another fancy tickler between the starter and entrée.

A mango lolly, cool, tangy, a refreshing interlude before the grand meaty symphony resumes.  

Ah, the lamb and the short rib. These are not mere meats—they are textural revelations, falling apart at the mere suggestion of a fork. Tenderness redefined. The rice? Cooked to perfection, each grain a tiny vessel of joy. The flavours? They cascade through your mouth, an unstoppable torrent of deliciousness. Your taste buds? Electrified. Your senses? Assaulted—in the best possible way.

And the staff!  So friendly, so efficient they weave this  glorious festival of culinary delight into a seamless experience.  

Then the pièce de résistance, the creamy, rich dal, generously dolloped onto fresh, pillowy naan bread. It’s decadent. It’s excessive, It’s just too much.

At these special prices, well worth it.

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