In my hardluck tale from the island of Port-Cros, where I had a rather more royal feast than intended, I promised culinary tales from London and the accents - and food detail - missing from part one.
Putting the cart ahead of the horse, I will briefly describe my UK dining experiences.
While reporting on the elections, I ate croissants with a fringe candidate who laughed at predictions that he'd lose his deposit (he did) and bought a deeply unhealthy "lunch" of crisps and chocolate when filling up the car.
But I also had three meals out that, for one reason or another, will stick in the memory for a while.
* the National Glass Centre, (Liberty Way, Sunderland. Tel: 0191 515 5555)
Once, I arrived there for a tea-time wedding having eaten a fabulous plateau de fruits des mer en route (but also in Sunderland - the occasion was reported at this link). If I hadn't already lunched on lobster and langoustines, I am sure the pizza slices and pies would have seemed perfect ... So, before the last home game of the season, I found myself back there. It was a Sunday, so the roast seemed a good choice. I had lamb, and it arrived with tons of veg and gravy. There was nothing to complain about, equally nothing to write home about. The young waiter displayed surprising lack of social awareness, having no idea that Gordon Brown had been there the day before and been heckled. But he was probably a student with far better things to do on a Saturday night than watch the news.* the Red Fort, Soho. (77 Dean St, London W1. Tel: 020 7437 2525)
Remembered for the poshness of the reception and the elegant but also pricey nature of its menu, with unusual, elaborate dishes that set it a long way apart from suburban curry houses and tandoori joints. Also remembered for the downstairs section where my colleagues and I once held the office Christmas party (the tables and chairs proving something of a discouragement to opportunities to mingle). Now, after a long closure for refurbishment, the posh reception has gone. I found the experience more mundane than in the past, but then I am a poor judge since I actually prefer the better examples of local curry/tandoori places.* Domingos Tapas bar (276 Northfield Ave, London W5. tel: 0208 5677 022)
A family-run restaurant, five minutes on foot from home in W5, and serving good, honest, unspectacular dishes at reasonable prices (but memo to the Portuguese owners, and any other restaurateurs who charge for bread: it should be served as a complimentary accompaniment to any meal). The experience of dinner at Domingos is friendly and filling, and the restaurant deserves much better than to be struggling, as it is just now, for customers in sufficient numbers.
Three quite different places to lunch or dine. In hard times for old England, I didn't feel fleeced at any of them, ate quite well and may even one day add the details (no accents needed this time).
But the collective impact reinforced my thought that you eat out better and more reasonably, in France, provided you also take care to check what you're buying if tempted by the price-by-weight catch of the day.
Some Salut! readers may be familiar with one or more of the estabishments I have mentioend and their views would be welcomed.
* With thanks to Mrs Logic for the photo of the National Glass Centre
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