Both the above watering holes were fancy-schmantzy and the socialising was in my estimation a success. But money doesn't always make a dinner cohere. Poor quality champagne at one equally chic place led to an evening of disappointment, though my relations disagree with me and say things went well.
This time we demotically took the bus down to central Hereford, called in for a pint at the Lichfield Vaults in Church Street, then dined at Simply Thai, now a favourite of ours. They do a spicy soup based on coconut milk... Best of all it worked as a family gathering, I could tell. This type of atmosphere is always hoped for but never guaranteed; blood lines do not necessarily bring about comity.
Presents can be difficult. Last year, extravagantly, I asked that my car be cleaned and valeted. It rained. This year the sun shone and the Poles who run this service put their heart and soul into it. I stepped into a vehicle that shone and smelt with newness, as it did a year ago when I bought it. I was aware this was wilfully conspicuous consumption, that I was averting my eyes from food banks and the gloom of Brexit. Then I thought of the cat that greeted us earlier at the bus-stop, rolling and stretching in ecstasy on the dusty pavement. Yeah, a bit like that.
A good looking bunch...your hair is shortish now, eh RR? Happy Birthday! I had such good Drunken Noodle at an Asian bistro on Sunday...I doubt I'll every order a different dish there. With mango bubble tea. The place used to be BYOB, but now it's no alcohol period. No matter....I was glad not to have dulled my senses one bit for a fabulous dish....at $9.95.
ReplyDeleteI don't think I could ever imagine that happy and handsome crew grumbling or having any less of a good time on account of the champagne not being up to scratch.
ReplyDeleteNow living in what we realise is within the suburban orbit of Rennes, we are just outside a small town which not only has the dubious honour of being the birthplace of Théodore Botrel and bearing a giant image of him on its water tower, but also contains an African take away (which we've not tried yet) and a Sri Lankan restaurant. The latter is rather misleadingly called 'A Taste of India', presumably in the hopes of snagging a British clientele homesick for curry, though the owner is at pains to draw the distinction. His best dishes so far tasted are beef based, with no turmeric but other spices we don't know. Might be birthday worthy for my next one, and cheap enough for our Brexit-savaged circumstances. Though for Tom's rather significant next one he's opted for another with a fine view over the valley and viaduct at Dinan; he hankers for seafood but they did a parmentier of the best oxtail I've ever eaten, kind of like an apotheosis of cottage pie. Plus they liked and welcomed Elfie, which is always a selling point.
He'll have no better present than new hearing aids, with rechargeable batteries and wires instead of tubes, which he's in the process of having fitted now and which promise to make music musical again (and being fed by his daughter on roast chicken and asparagus in the sweltering heat). Elfie and I are feasting à deux on chicken livers. For some of us it still ain't that bad.
Oh, it was your birthday and you also left a comment for me that ended up in the Gulf of Spam. So sorry!
ReplyDeleteIt does look like a jolly group, and you look as clean as your car....
ReplyDeleteMikeM: My usual hairdresser (Shara - Sounds like a drunk trying to say Sarah) was on holiday and her replacement - the proprietor - left me shorn to the bone. A bit like those guys waiting on Death Row until the legal arguments run out.
ReplyDeleteMy choice at Simply Thai is more or less fixed: Smaller than usual Dim Sum (steamed parcels of minced pork, prawn and herbs with sweet soya sauce), Tom Kha coconut soup with chicken, Kang panang (Dry aromatic curried beef with coconut milk, long beans and lime leaves) and coconut rice. Unimaginative but they do it so freshly, so well, I'm disinclined to be adventurous. Were I to call at your bistro no doubt I'd follow your footsteps.
Lucy: There is a price to be paid at my birthday dinners: all are forced to articulate their reactions to the wine. Nobody gets away with "All right." Mind you, self-interest plays a part. The £60 bottle of Laurent Perrier rosé champagne we had at the Hardwick, near Abergavenny (mentioned in Tone Deaf) was the best champagne I have ever drunk and to concerted applause I ordered a second bottle.
I had to look up Theodore Botrel. Admired his hat but decided it looked better on him than on me. Slightly odd to think of you eating curry in France (and in bypass-encircled Rennes!); are there many French diners? Thank goodness VR gave me Jonathan Meades' The Plagiarist's Cookbook for my birthday so that I know what a parmentier is. Gotta go for the "apotheosis of cottage pie" and how about explaining your enthusiasm in those terms to the chef?
Oh I do so hope Tom's ears are opened to music again. I can't imagine old age without it. Daughter Professional Phlebotomist has been converted to opera by us and listened/saw five of them on DVD during her most recent visit. Three of them (Puccini's collective Trittico) were admittedly meant to be seen in one evening. All of us were agreed that Don Carlos was a disconnected sprawl, I just can't get on with Verdi. But Rosenkavalier, a DVD which VR and I were seeing for the second time, suddenly became both revelatory and moving.
Marly: Lost in the Gulf of Spam! The short-story beckons. And yes we were jolly. Old age encourages moody, often anxious reflection but having most of us together held that at bay for an evening.