Ottolenghi

With shame have I left this write up so long. So long, in fact, that the third salad is now hidden to my memory and I have no notes on the taste of anything. Bad times :(

Still, like the woman in the song 'After the ball was over', I limp along with decreasing body parts. Actually, I'm not sure how well that analogy will work, but here goes...

My plate sported:
Fat slices of some cut of cold beef, quite possibly marinaded or something (she took out her glass eye)
broad bean, pea and fennel salad with pink peppercorns
roast sweet potato and red pepper salad
another utterly delicious salad that escapes me (put her false teeth in the water)

Cornbread! I definitely remember the corn bread that Phil was determined to have all to himself out of the selection of breads. Happily, they let us have all corn bread so Mel and I also tasted the bread of heaven, dipped in some verdant virgin olive oil.

I have a better desert memory. Mel had a beautiful lemon polenta cake; Phil declined elegantly... then opted for the biggest banana toffee bundt known to mankind; I had a saucy little lemon and marscapone tart. The pastry was crispy and almost gritty, making me think it could have been made with polenta. The middle created tears of real joy: I love lemon done right.

There was coffee and it probably tasted nice, I was too happy and full to really notice. And then there were the bathrooms. Girls and boys, I won't ruin the surprise, but my advice would be as my Mother's always was: remember to go before you leave home. Super modern the bathrooms may be, but super impossible it is to have a pee without blushing. If you have any modesty don't use 'em.

I don't remember the price of our meal (shook from her hair the dye), but I do remember that there were so few of the dishes we asked for, that the utterly lovely waitress only charged us for two salads instead of three, each. I also remember laughing a lot and being lulled into a baby-like state of contentment after such a beautiful meal.

That's it: the inaccurate impressions that don't do justice to a gorgeous meal. A good reason to go back again.
Then what was left went to bye byes ... after the ball.