Nativity -2 days. Unfortunately Lily’s multifarious maladies linger, so I have called the Infants school to put her understudy on stand by.
I feel terrible, and have double-checked my will in order to avoid a legal fight over who inherits my collection of Prince 12-inches. But there is no rest for the weekend. After working at home and sorting out meetings/tastings for my sojourn to Pomerol next week, I venture into London for lunch at the celebrated River Cafe and with the numerous pasti, anti-pasti, pre- pasti, inter- pasti, anti- anti-pasti courses served, my stomach is completely full and politely enquiring whether he can forego this ensuing 5-course dinner at The Ledbury this evening?
The answer is a firm no, as there are 11 vintages of Chateau La Conseillante to taste. With a couple of hours between tastings, I walk into Piccadilly, procure some Japanese victuals for home, then recuperate in Waterstone’s for an hour reading Peter Hook’s biography of his days with New Order (which, believe it or not, is de facto research for a forthcoming Lynch Bages article) and then leaf through an amusing reference guide to films banned by the British Film Council.
The dinner at The Ledbury, organized by Bordeaux Index, is superb, even if I feel like dying and nibble at my rump of wagyu beef with truffle puree and baked potato rossini like an anorexic rabbit. The wine is outstanding (wonderful 2001, 1995 and 1982) and the company engaging: two convivial head honchos in the music industry. It is therefore no surprise that much of the evening is spent either listing the top ten Pomerol chateaux, or the top ten albums of the decade. Unfortunately I miss my last, fast train home by about 30 seconds and therefore find myself stranded on a rainy Woking platform station at 1a.m. yearning for my duvet.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: river cafe, la conseillante, ledbury
