Hi-de-Hi, low-lifes! One thing that never ceases to amuse me about having the ol' ministerial portcullis on the visiting card is the access it gives to the most hallowed of circles. And if that sounds promising, imagine how I felt when I received a crinkly edged invitation to Pearly Prince Jamie Olivier's tasteless Fifteen restaurant from no less than King Justin himself.
The timing couldn't have been better. We were to dine on the very day The Grocer revealed that the Mockney Mucker's forthcoming line in Radish & Watercress Bubblegum would not bear the traffic lights beloved of the huddled peasantry of Holborn! And the same fearless article disclosed it was in fact the Dear Leader Terence who had been the first to snap up Olivier's risibly overpriced wares.
Needless to say, King Justin was not in the best of moods, particularly in the light of the falling out over Olivier's live televised pheasant plucking, or whatever it was. You could have cut the atmosphere with a Gordon Ramsey 'Little F**ker' grapefruit knife (£199 at John Lewis).
Things didn't improve when Jamie's jellied eels were not served à la King, the steak tartare was underdone and the sauce turned out more like Berni's than bearnaise . By the time the boil-in-the-bag jam roly-poly was brought forth by Allo-me-ol-mate 'imself, I could tell Ainsley Harriott was in for a windfall endorsement contract.
Discretion bars me from recounting the events that ensued. Suffice to say it transpires that having fruit stuffed into unusual orifices is not the sole preserve of canard à l'orange. It was just a few short days later that a presidential decree from Cheshunt established that animal welfare was dead and that it was safe to flog poor Guantanamo fowl for £1.99. Re-enter the culinary luvvies stage left, squawking deliriously.
Will it be the hearts or wallets of the great British consumer that win out? Stuffed if I know.
The timing couldn't have been better. We were to dine on the very day The Grocer revealed that the Mockney Mucker's forthcoming line in Radish & Watercress Bubblegum would not bear the traffic lights beloved of the huddled peasantry of Holborn! And the same fearless article disclosed it was in fact the Dear Leader Terence who had been the first to snap up Olivier's risibly overpriced wares.
Needless to say, King Justin was not in the best of moods, particularly in the light of the falling out over Olivier's live televised pheasant plucking, or whatever it was. You could have cut the atmosphere with a Gordon Ramsey 'Little F**ker' grapefruit knife (£199 at John Lewis).
Things didn't improve when Jamie's jellied eels were not served à la King, the steak tartare was underdone and the sauce turned out more like Berni's than bearnaise . By the time the boil-in-the-bag jam roly-poly was brought forth by Allo-me-ol-mate 'imself, I could tell Ainsley Harriott was in for a windfall endorsement contract.
Discretion bars me from recounting the events that ensued. Suffice to say it transpires that having fruit stuffed into unusual orifices is not the sole preserve of canard à l'orange. It was just a few short days later that a presidential decree from Cheshunt established that animal welfare was dead and that it was safe to flog poor Guantanamo fowl for £1.99. Re-enter the culinary luvvies stage left, squawking deliriously.
Will it be the hearts or wallets of the great British consumer that win out? Stuffed if I know.
No comments yet