Monday, 21 March 2011

The view from here

So to town to meet Mother.

Sir John Soane Museum
Mmmmm, nothing a skip and a lick of white paint wouldn't sort out, seriously clutter doesn't even come close, and considering he was an architect there is precious little focus on letting us see the bones of what must be an achingly beautiful building. The location is pretty special too.

Kitty fleeced us both royally in Zara and H&M thank god we didn't get to Top Shop.

Dean Street Townhouse

I appreciate they did my sister a favour squeezing us in but even so sitting next to a door that was constantly banged open with increasing alacrity was irritating, the staff too all seemed to talk, much like my students do at school getting louder and louder and louder. Staff should be seen and not heard, sorry but at that price it's all about ME not them.
The table would have done Winston Churchill proud since you could have planned the invasion of Europe on it and had room to spare for a game of crib. I managed to semaphore most of my instructions to Leyla who sat opposite, but otherwise you are forced to raise your voice to compete with the staff or give up. Maybe they should just put telephones on the table! It reminded me of those heady days of Kensington Place which suffered similarly, but somehow carried it off with great charm.
The menu was esoteric but did tick Kitty's steak and chips box but poor poor Mother, I actually felt sorry for her, she always draws the short straw every time, she hates strong flavours so struggles as much as Kitty to determine what is edible and what is not. My sister said a friend had recommend the Mince and Potato, seriously would the name alone not ring alarm bells? And lo that is what she got, a plate of gruel, mince and a side dish of bland buttered potatoes . In prison it would incite a riot, here my mother with a heavy heart just sucked it up. quite literally. My salad was esoteric and a little too chilled, but I ordered it with chips, £4 chips which should have included a pocket sized leprechaun to feed them to me, instead they came in a metal flower pot, which is a ridiculous affectation, especially since it then steams the life out of them, plus they were frozen chips. Shame on you .

My sister and I watched the table opposite order an afternoon tea. the cakes would have done Katie Price proud such was their synthetic luminosity, Lucy did wonder after we had dissected the colour of the macaroon (which truly was the most hideous pink) within an inch of it's life that we were not just a little spoilt? No we are not, we just have high standards and when places like this say they are selling the dream then that is what we want.
The waiter fared no better constantly harried not once did anticipate anything without us asking, begging, pleading. I gave up and finished with a coffee. Kitty and Leyla did say the ice cream was lovely so that must have been bought in. No, I would not go back, it is a place beyond any form of redemption, they have not an ounce of humility, it is a triumph of hype over substance.

I bought a lovely scarf in COS though !!


materfamilias said...

so wait a minute. . . could you clarify that for me? You don't like the restaurant? We shouldn't go there when we get back to London?
Seriously, you're hilarious when you get into decent rant mode -- the specific details you provide are so telling.

indigo16 said...

Correct! Give it a miss, still the food was about as bad as my grammar in that post, I would say!