Curiosity is the cure for boredom, and there is no cure for curiosity. This feels like Wonderland…read moreterritory, and not least because my meal here last night ended to the ethereal, dreamlike trip hop track Sugar Water, by Cibo Matto.
It couldn't have been more daydream, if I'm honest -- we pattered along Vicar lane, skipping in the rain, to the entrance of... Flannels, a popular menswear shop. A single bouncer guards the door, checks your name is on the list, who then guides you past the shirts and borderline-erotic imagery above the till to get to the lift. Floor number three: The Man Behind The Curtain. Disappointing lift light -- terrible for selfies. It moves slowly, like an ancient relic with cogs from, at least, the sixties.
The art and ambiance is, as you might expect by now, perfectly odd and mostly minimal. We sat next to a slightly disturbing, slightly bondage painting of a woman whose eyes are blotted out by blue and lips, permanently smudged. (You are free to judge me by my descriptions of said art -- perhaps you won't see the vibe at all.) One lamp hangs so low it's merely feet from the floor. There are question marks everywhere and sculpted hands emerge from the entrance wall, all rocking out, "devil horns" style.
I won't dwell long on the staff, because although each person we encountered is a whole individual with their own thoughts, dreams, and desires, every of them was equally and unfalteringly lovely, informative, and genteel -- to the point of being replicants, and I don't mean that to sound rude.
Now, the food.
CARTE BLANCHE
1. To allow full creative freedom
2. To showcase what we feel is right for now
What they felt was right for last night, I don't think can ever be wrong. We went with the wine pairings, and I honestly don't know why you wouldn't just spend the extra £30 or so. Each drink --of course-- beautifully complemented the food. The octopus "snack" with capers, and a whole host of other umami flavours I'm not sophisticated enough to call out, was simply ridiculous. We licked the spoons. We cared not.
I shan't call out every item, since brevity is already an issue, but the absolute winners of the evening had to be the practically obsidian dish of cod in squid ink --we had the brief appearance of black-toothed witches, which I assume matched well with our lady painting-- and the pork two ways, complete with edible egg shell and "charcoal". Bonus points for this: "We know that some people think you should have a red with pork and some people think you should have a white, so we give you one of each." Hooooooo, lady -- that's my jam. Yes.
Everything, from the cutlery to the plates to the food itself: art.
Oh, and cupcake in a single mouthful? We decided that's definitely the maximum amount of cupcake anyone ever needs -- it was perfect. No more, no less: I just want the mouthful.
Warning: the feeling of loss and desolation, now, is pretty real. I'm sure I'll get back into "normal" life again, but... lunch is really going to blow. And so will dinner. And so will alcohol, even. How quickly one becomes accustomed to the finer things! *She says, staring at her sub-par, poorly made filter coffee and packet of mass produced bagels.*
Worth it.
