I’ve got almost two weeks before my next deadlines, unless some effer slips a new one in, so I’m feeling a bit fancy free.
Last night Cornflake and I had plans for a cocktail, and I had plans for a dessert, out, after dinner at home. We are unsure why, possibly COVID times related, possibly age related, but we now realise that after dinner, there is no where to go that is more appealing than our sofa. Realistically, even in this holiday type weather, we’re not going anywhere once we’ve eaten. So this evening Cornflake met me after work at a champagne bar next to St Paul’s cathedral.
All in all it was a very successful evening out. Lovely weather, lovely view, nice food, sparkly, taxi home.
The bar was glossy, with tables and brollies outside to make the most of the sunshine. The staff were very friendly, but not too much, the clientele, a bit city workerish, but it is in the city, so of course they are. The menu was what I’d describe as, pan global nibble nobbles to share. Lots of Mediterranean, bit Indian, bit of Mexican.
We had chorizo, cod goujons, chunky chips, champagne and mini pavlovas. Or, if the bar had been more basic, the truth of the matter would have been, fish fingers and chips, sausage and chips, and Eton mess.
However you dress it up, every pavlova is an Eton mess waiting to happen.
fat tart 