I am absolutely stunned by this gaseous mire of two and three star reviews for that which is, unequivocally, my favourite takeaway outlet in this or any universe.
This is it. When Yelping (that is, walking those soggy streets notebook in hand gathering enough material to subsequently write-up) I was struck with a Lovecraftian sense of horror as my eyes struggled to register the notion that Happy Days had vanished. The sense of relief and joy felt when I realised that, in fact, they had simply changed their sign and that, thank heavens, they're still very much with us, was comparable to that of a young boy who hears the ecstatic barking of his beloved-but-assumed-missing puppy bounding homeward over the hill.
Yes, Happy Days was "our" takeaway. The one to which we always went. And, had it not been so good, we wouldn't have gone there. It's that simple.
What's so good about it? Well, on the one hand there's the staff. The place is run like a party, as it were, and the regulars are beloved and soon given nick-names. For whatever reason, I was known as Dr. Zhivago.
Then there're the meal deals. They come in three or four different sizes with the prices and content increasing exponentially in terms of quantity and inches. It ranges from a medium garlic bread and a medium pizza to a gargantuan garlic bread and a collossal pizza with hash browns and onion rings. With everything you get a complimentary bottle of coke, and you're always free to choose whatever pizza you wish. We used to go for the "create your own" on which we piled extra cheese, green peppers and spicy beef. Coupled with the garlic bread and the hash browns and washed down with coke, it represented the pinnacle of comfort eating for a period of two or three years. Yes. Bliss, rapture and contentment manifest in an inexpensive meal deal. That's how much I love Happy Days.
Dear Happy Days
Three weeks ago I was strong-armed into coming to frozen Fallowfield for a drink, when all I wanted to do was stay indoors, in my dressing gown, watching Living TV (there was a Ghost Whisperer marathon on, I'm sure you understand). I'm not gonna lie to you, Happy Days, I was not looking forward to this visit.
The visit was made even less appetising by the fact that we were forced by Trof's closure into drinking at the Cheshire Cat, which I am sure, Happy Days, you know all about. That's right, it's not the best place. Anyway, I had a little too much to drink, I'm not too proud to admit, and then when closing time came, we wended our way to Vodka Revs where I ravenously eyed the cupcakes but was told I was not allowed one (probably because I had run out of money, had just called the boyf a tit and then fell over). Sulking proved futile so I hatched a plan. Once we were kicked out of Vodka Revs, and Medic Friend was unexpectedly ambushed by some nasty boys who hit him in the arm, I had made up my mind. I strode confidently, purposefully, wonkily, to you, Happy Days.
Once inside, the boyf and I were greeted by friendly faces, the faces of the happy Happy Days team. We were positively alight with joy when we heard the stereo blasting out Bonnie Tyler (the boyf, however, refused to dance) and we ordered chips. Oh, Happy Days, your chips are lovely! And mango chutney too! And those weird green pickled jalapenos! What a feast, for only £1.50!
Unfortunately I fell asleep in the taxi home, awaking to find the boyf had eaten them all. Still, the few I managed were lovely. Thank you, Happy Days, for not minding that I don't know all the words to Total Eclipse of the Heart, and for giving me a free can of coke and a Vimto lolly because I complimented your sign. You're lovely, Happy Days. I like you.
Love, B xxx
You're never stuck for somewhere to go in Fallowfield if it's late and you're hungry. Unfortunately, sorting out where to go out of the myriad possibilities can be a slightly more difficult task. Takeaways seem to line every road, sit on every corner, and appear from every shadow. Which is where I come in.
Practically all takeaways in Fallowfield do pizza, so picking it as one of the main selling points of your business means you either have to do it well, or do it with a twist. Happy Days, for a start, does not do it that well. It's not horrible, but in my opinion, Venice Pizzas just next door does them better. Not mind-blowingly better, mind you, just better. It then tries to do them with a twist, but the twist just isn't as good as it should be either. You can get a 12" with your choice of two toppings for £2.50. A good deal, but it's exactly the same as the one Venice Pizza do, and they throw in a drink as well. And the pizzas taste better there.
So, in conclusion, there's no real reason to go in. Venice Pizza is a better deal for cheap pizza, anywhere else is a better deal for, well, anything else.
I feel a third review is just about needed here simply in order to state, contrary to the suggestion of a previous counter-argument, that Rob has, in his review of Happy Days, taken up the hammer, and struck the nail firmly and squarely on its head. If only the nail were the final one in the Happy Days coffin, we'd all be saved another average experience.
Two stars is generous but just about right, simply because you need to consider how easily pleasing a big greasy snack is when you make the purchase (after a beer). Many a time do I remember thinking I was filling my face with 5-star kebab or pizza. So with that in mind, two stars is really and rightly very low.
Average after a few drinks, I dread to think what it would be like under normal conditions (20-25ºC, Ph 7).
Avoid this takeaway. Although it's situated in a prime location opposite Orange Grove in Fallowfield and thus in a great position to attract many a hungry, drunk student, the food here had a bit of astrange taste to it, to say the least. It was the dough that put me off really; it had a very strange smell to it, kind of yeasty but not in the good way you associate with baking bread. The pizza left a lot to be desired other than this, however, as the cheese was a bit odd and the tomato sauce was just bland.
The guys working here were a bit weird too, don't go in as a single female - a word to the wise! They might think it's just friendly banter, but some of their comments made me slightly uncomfortable.
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