Views on life, love and the laundry
basket from the lady behind a Dial-a-Cab driver...
The best dessert was Chocolate Nightmare, a plate the size of a UFO with little
pots and sculptures of dark deliciousness and star-shaped squiggles all round.
Those spotty kids from the telly did that? Well, I did recognise a couple of
them slaving away in the kitchen...
The service was friendly and respectful but too in-your-face when it came to topping up the wine. The toilets were nothing special; Glen visits better ones at his chosen hotels on his nightly rounds. We did a recce to the upstairs bar, heaving with people and thumping music, where they also serve food including breakfasts.
It's a five-minute walk from Brunswick Place and if I were on the Dial-a-Cab office night shift, I'd skip up the road with a happy heart, knowing porridge, kedgeree and God's own bread was waiting for me!
My daughter's young man drank fairly little, a good sign I think, and then started kissing her hand - which I'm not quite so sure about! When the bill came, it was more than it cost to re-tile my kitchen and the pink card it came in said, "Nice one." What do you think Jamie meant by that?
My big night out had nearly arrived! Luke rang from 'Fifteen' restaurant to check if I still wanted my booking. "I'm counting the hours," I assured him quite coolly, or so I thought...
I have always loved Jamie Oliver, even before the TV series on training the unemployed to be master chefs for Fifteen, after which Fay Maschler declared he should be Prime Minister and media snobs finally admitted that his accent wasn't really fake.
It's definitely the hottest new feedbag in town, so it's out of the big-girl knickers and into my plum trouser-suit and motorcycle brooch. My daughter told me that trainers and spiky hair would just look stupid, but I think she was afraid I'd upstage her in front of her new boyfriend. I even got the cat into the spirit when I piled her Kit-e-Kat into a tasteful pyramid with a rosemary sprig on top and drizzled curls of condensed milk artistically round her dish! Delivery in style to Westland Place thanks to our red
Dial-a-Cab taxi, we parked just a few yards away. Glen reckons it's a good
place to look for passengers at night - how can he think about work when we're
here to glitter and be gay? I relaxed once I saw that the waitresses were fully
Last month we went to the gastropub 'House' on Canonbury Road, where the waitress's bare flesh extended further south than her pubic bone and this, of course, at eye level for the diners. Glen didn't complain, even when her navel-stud nearly dislodged his spectacles...
But back to 'Fifteen' - it's not for vegetarians. The big wall mural shows a fish on a hook and a huge cow with 'organic' on her front, the point being that the food is sourced naturally. Do not go there if you think of your meal as the deceased remains of the happy creatures depicted. The food did vary - from great to divine. The steak was so tender you hardly needed a knife or possibly even teeth, while the handmade breads were mini-meals full of goodies.
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