THE MOON UNDER WATER, Central Milton Keynes

It's hard to review The Moon Under Water (Wetherspoons in the Snowdome) because it doesn't serve food.

It doesn't serve beer either. The signs outside assure you that its patrons are able to purchase both in abundance, but this is clearly a lie. Approaching the bar may convince you otherwise, there are tills, customers and an abundance of staff who all seem to be very busy. In fact as this bar seems to have the most staff per square footage of bar of any of the pubs in MK, one would think that this was a perfect set up for anyone wishing to purchase drinks or food.

This is not the case.

By some cruel twist of fate The Moon Under Water only employs bartenders with acute glaucoma. An ocular disability which causes severe tunnel vision. None of the bar staff have a field of vision wider than 5 degrees. This means that if you stand an inch to the left or right of them they can't see you. In fact unless you are standing directly in front of them screaming "Beer!" and smacking them in the face with a £20 note it's quite probable they'll never notice you at all.

I'm all for helping people with disabilities back into the workplace, but the upshot of this bizarre recruitment policy is that no one has been served in The Moon Under Water since 1983. You may see people with pints and food - however these people are obviously overspill from the surrounding clubs and have brought their own drinks with them. I heartily recommend you do the same because you're not getting served at The Moon Under Water.

Luckily for the purposes of this column the staff obviously prepare food and leave it lying around even if they have no idea who it's for: as such I was able to snaffle a couple of dishes and review the place.

The Moon Under Water serves a thick brown paste hastily constructed into various shapes and given names like "curry" and "fruit salad". The amount and consistency of the paste can vary as can its temperature – however, regardless of these differences the paste tastes of beef and onion crisps. Some attempt has been made to garnish the paste with thin slivers of yellow and green plastic hastily strewn over the plate by someone suffering from palsy.

I am unsure where the paste comes from but I'm assuming it's a long way away, because it's definitely not fresh paste and it costs more than the bog-standard paste you might find in a school stock cupboard.

As no one who has ever managed to order the paste it is hard to decide whether it represents value for money.

It's slightly cheaper than food served at other pubs in the area, but then again it's not actually food, and it's not actually served. No one has ever been able to pay for it either so I guess it sits in an interesting metaphysical purgatory: unloved, uneaten and unpaid for but, by virtue of its semi-corporeal existence, not doing anyone any actual harm.

And it really does taste of beef and onion crisps, which might be right up your street if you can’t chew solids and really really like beef and onion.

All this is moot however as you will never successfully order the paste - let alone be served and eat it - which in some ways is probably a blessing. If you must eat at The Moon Under Water I suggest you take your own food. And your own beer.

One Line Review:
Do not try to order beer. That's impossible. Instead... only try to realize the truth. There is no Beer....