Donald the Lovely
You can tell he’s funny from the picture can’t you? I don’t usually take to funny waiters especially the ones who make it clear they haven’t tasted any of the dishes on the specials list. By that I mean ever tasted steak tartar (“It’s raw meat!” said Donald in horror) or caviar (“apparantly it’s eggs from a fish called a surgeon or summat”) or probably even mussels. Donald had a way about him that won me over. I think it was his innocence. He wasn’t trying to be funny. It wasn’t mock horror that he displayed for all those freaky menu items.
I wanted to take him out and let him taste all his worse fears. There had to be something he liked. Not that I have the money to be taking out young boys and spoiling them with caviar and such. Nice thought though.
Happy Birthday to me (again)
Our gathering turned out to be a late birthday surprise treat for me with a present of a friendship ball (they used to be called witchy balls) from my friend Ruth. Yes, that’s Ruth who threw up all over my car the last time we ate out together. She came in her own car this time, thank God.
As there were seven of us we qualified for eating in one of the private dining anti-chambers. We could view the hoi polloi through the doorway and they could see us and feel inferior – a most satisfactory arrangement.
I chose a bottle of Alto Bajo Chilean Sauvignon Blanc to share with Mark, Ruth’s husband and prayed it would be a good substitute for a Marlborough SB. I hate it when there’s a tobaccoey aftertaste with some of the Chilean SB’s. It was ok but far less of a wine than a half decent Marlborough. I felt too guilty to spend an extra £13.50 on the New Zealand wine because Ged was driving. I am such a considerate wife sometimes that I astound myself.
On to the food. Of course I ordered the steak tar-tar with caviar; not just to horrify Donald-the-lovely-waiter. I do like a bit of raw meat. The tar-tar was ok but needed a bit of Tabasco to pep it up. Amusing how they decided to serve it as a funny face with cress hair, eggy eyes and a caviar nose as if they were trying to make it appealing to children. We all tasted the caviar and agreed that it was more muddy pond water than the ultimate fresh evocation of the Caspian sea. I don’t know what the Russians are dumping in their waters nowadays but this was not the Sevruga of my past.
A faceful of steak tar-tar. Note no smile.
Half lobster on a Thai curry theme with crispy noodles
Ged and Ruth both had the lobster. Ged was very daring and stuck with the satay theme even though he was tempted to ask for it to be grilled with garlic butter. They both said it was delicious.
Joe had the mussels, Zoe had a half portion of gnocchi with spring vegetables, salsa verde and pine nuts (which she hates or so she always tells me). She ate it though. Ruth and Mark’s daughter (also a Zoe, very confusing) had the Goosnargh chicken with paprika potatoes and yet more salsa verde and pine nuts.
They all had puddings but I restrained myself like a good girl because I had a frock to fit into for a do. I did taste the brulee though (very good) and the apple pie which was way too sweet and not a patch on my apple tart. Have I mentioned that Pierce Brosnan said of my apple tart, “That’s not an apple tart, Gill. That’s a little piece of heaven.” and he insisted on taking one along to the filming of James Bond’s ‘The World is Not Enough’ for all his superstar friends to taste. That was two weeks before he fired me.
Apple pie – not ‘a little piece of heaven’.
