So D has just been deposited at Liverpool Street Station by the
Bankside is underground but that’s okay as it has a lift. However said lift is not working and we know this not because there is a helpful sign explaining this fact but after standing pointlessly outside of the lift and pressing button repeatedly we were no closer to being transported magically to the lower floor. When we dragged the case down the several flights the receptionist did admit that the lift was out of order to which I remarked that some note for the unsuspecting prospective lift user might assist. Case duly stored away we turned to more interesting thoughts, food! We have some major gastronomic excitement planned for tonight though I haven’t actually admitted to D where we are going. Though she always manages to guess anyway, I suspect she has either strange physic powers or I am way too predictable! Because of the promise of a gourmet treat we don’t want to go mad, just secure some fuel for the exertions of the rest of the day. D has planned an afternoon of culture at the V&A, I have clients to administer to – culture of a different sort!
So from the simple seasonal menu we plump for whole grilled plaice with watercress and a smattering of sauté potatoes. Mine isn’t too bad at all but D’s has been filleted poorly and there’s rather more bone than sweet plaice flesh. Very sad! We did point this out to the waitress but she seems to think that it’s normal to encounter a mini skeleton at every mouthful. If it were mine I think I would have protested more violently but D is more laissez faire about these things. The shared chocolaty chocolate brownie with chocolate sauce and ice cream was tasty though, no bones in that!
As we left the receptionist in a fit of guilt of the lack of lift gave us each a wine cooling sleeve which was rather sweet. And at least we had a suitcase in which to squirrel them away until later.
Maybe next time we'll stick to the meat!