Saturday, October 16, 2010

 

Bum Notes

Keats had begun to notice Chapman's absence on successive occasions from their regular Tuesday evening's libations and challenged him on the reason at their next sitting (Wednesday). "I am", Chapman confessed shyly, "engaged with a musical society for the purposes of a performance of the Bach B Minor Mass, at Westland Row, this coming Easter Sunday". Keats was duly impressed, and was eager for more details.

It transpired that Chapman had been drafted in by a friend of the brother's, as a favour to the choir master, to supplement a flagging bass section. "Oh the in-fighting and egos are something shocking", opined Chapman, conspiratorially. "I wouldn't mind, but as a choir, they're alright, but they aren't that good". Keats requested an example of the in-bitchery ongoings. "At the other night's practice", replied Chapman, "the conductor and first fiddle became incensed at each other over a major difference in the interpretation of the Ave. Neither would back down in the standoff, and it descended into a regular ould slagging match. It was", he offered, "most undignified".

Keats, as he supped gently from his porter was heard to murmur, "Sounds like a real bun fight at the ok chorale". Chapman wrinkled his nose, muttered something about the stout being off, and left to seek some scampi fries.

Friday, October 15, 2010

 

NAMA NAMA NAMA NAMA NAMA Chameleon

What with Claridges being in the news this week, as it's being sold by NAMA, the bad bank agency of the Irish government (due to a complicated web of indebtedness woven by Derek Quinlan, an Irish property "magnate"), I resurrected this review from some time ago, previously unpublished.

A Sunday, early evening reservation was the best time we could get for GR@Claridge's recently, but we accepted it gratefully. We started off in the bar with champagne and cocktails and some delicious nibbles - pricey at 20 quid, but easing us nicely into the evening.

From there we found our way into the wonderfully decorous, art deco
interior of Claridge's - every where you look being a visual treat although I have to confess I'm a big art deco fan. Immediate impressions were of a large, lavish, comfortable relaxed dining room with attentive and professional service. Starting with some pink champagne (I've had better aperitif's mind you) we surveyed the menus and a wine list as thick as a phone book. Our waiter was helpful in suggesting a set menu which we both opted for in the end, and we dialled up a Baudoc from the bewilderingly large list when our original choice turned out to be unavailable.

Our menu comprised 3 starters, which were more amuse bouches in size - melon soup with a crab dressing - deliciously cool and creamy; great foie gras; and then scallops with Jerusalem artichokes - the scallops were of excellent quality drizzled in a light caramel sauce and cooked just right and still intensely hot at the table. The Baudoc we had was a superb accompaniment and crispy-cold so we were getting along very nicely at this point.

Call me a nit-picker, but the service went a bit downhill here. This may have been a function of the location of our table - right in the corner near to some tills and napkin reservoirs, and the constantly hovering waiters were beginning to annoy. My pet hate is having my wine glass topped up by waiters. In fact, in the technical book of service etiquette, waiters should never refill a glass unless asked, so I have protocol on my side here.

Anyhow, mains were a choice of duck or pork and we both opted for duck - which was faultless: cooked exactly as I asked (pink) with a delicious crispy salty skin. It also had a revelatory accompaniment of turnip no less, that I heartily enjoyed. My girlfriend had a champagne soup with strawberries, which was allegedly nice, but I didn't get offered any, so it must have been. There was a great selection of horrendously smelly cheeses, upon which I fell and wrought much desolation.

The coup de grace was a superb "out of the firkin" crème brulee with rhubarb ice cream and some crunchy rhubarb sticks. I thought the rhubarb worked well, but Piggly Wiggly was indifferent to it, but agreed on the quality of the crème brulee. Coffee and petits fours followed in the foyer/lounge, as we had to give up our table for 8pm. All in all, including wine, service and drinks we ended up about 260 quid out of pocket.

Was it worth it ? Well I cannot fault any of the food at all - the service was, if anything, too attentive and the surroundings sublime. The huge disappointment for me was the extent of the menu: large but most definitively a "hotel" menu. In our terms that translates as "standard", "safe" and, if I'm going to call it like it is, "boring". There wasn't one thing there I hadn't had a dozen times before in other (albeit inferior quality) restaurants. There wasn't a single "wow factor" dish at all. Not one thing that would make you say "yukkk" or "wow I wonder what that's like?" or "that must be horrible - how can you have X and Y on the same plate?". In short, the menu was decidedly unadventurous.
Which may be fine if you're wanting to impress a picky eater, or you want a reliable lunch spot for an important family get together, but not if you want what Keith Floyd once called a "gastonautic experience".

 

Bibendum Late Than Never

As a post "Messiah" performance treat, many moons ago, I was trying to book a table for 4 at 10pm on the last Friday before Xmas at a nice restaurant and not having any joy at all. Until, that is, I tried Bibendum, and got the reservation I wanted. Pre service indications were good - I got a phone call on the day confirming the reservation and when I said we might be a little late as we had to come from a performance, they assured me there was no problem. As it happens we arrived punctually, but were kept waiting for 10 minutes before being seated, for which the management were profusely apologetic and offered us some champagne on the house as we eventually sat down. Which was a nice and appreciated touch so we were happy.

The surroundings were wonderful - amazing art deco posters, terrific stained glass Michelin man windows, and really comfortable relaxed seating, and a pleasant buzz about the dining room. We had our orders for food and wine taken promptly by unobtrusive staff, which was again appreciated as we were pretty deep in conversation at this point. One universal quibble was, as with, it seems, all Conran restaurants, the menu is ridiculously hard to read and understand, written as it is in some semi-undecipherable hieroglyphics. The prices are staggeringly clear, though, and could cause the faint hearted some palpitations, so be warned this is an expensive restaurant. Plenty of bread, crisps (highly unusual in my experience) and some very tasty olives were proffered as starter nibbles.

I had goujons of plaice to start with a coriander vinegar, as did one other person, and the other starters were a half dozen oysters and a plate of mussels. The oysters with shallot vinegar were probably the best bet of the starters, although somewhat pricey (at about £18), and got necked without being offered around. In fact, most of the starters ranged between £10-25, and there was quite a good selection. The mussels were pronounced to be an unenthusiastic "ok", and the plaice goujons were actually very good - deep fried but not at all fatty, although I found them and the vinegar a little bland.

The main course selection did provide some challenging dishes - of these our foursome were generally quite unadventurous - two of us went for the peppered fillet steak (expensive at about £25, and that did not include any sides). One of us went for haddock and chips, which, enormous and tasty though it was, was left unfinished. The real gastronaut amongst us though went for kidneys and black pudding on a bed of cabbage with gravy. Having tasted a bit I was extremely sorry I didn't go for it myself - it was utterly delicious, and even though my steak was a perfectly cooked mouth wateringly thick piece of excellent meat, with an rich intense meaty jus, it was as nought in comparison with the chocolately offal textures and flavours. Sides of boiled potatoes and spinach were good, but expensive additions to the main dish.

Dessert for me was a superb crème brulee, although there was still a little un-bruleed sugar around the edges if I were being picky. Coffee followed. The whole thing including service came to more that £200 for 4, including an excellent bottle of South African red. Our bill took a very long time to obtain though, because of some faulty machinery - we ended up paying with one of those old fashioned manual card impression swipers, and received a Bibendum Michelin man ash tray for all our troubles.

Given the surroundings, the quality of the food, wine list and particularly our experience of the service, that's really not that bad as we've often unwittingly ended up paying a lot more for a lot worse in London. This may lack the theatre crowd and occasional famous thespian that the other Conran we've been to might sport (The Almeida in Islington), but we found the service better, and the quality a notch or two above it's Islington cousin, if a little more formal.

 

More than just a hat stand

Keats was berating Chapman one evening on account of his appearance. "It ill behooves men of both our status and position in society to be seen in such states of deshabillment: you look", he opined, "like the wreck of the Hesperus". In particular he took issue with Chapman's hat. "That...thing", he said, "beggars belief. The arse", he noted, "is gone out of the elbow of it years ago; it's on it's last legs, indeed has surpassed them. It is, in short, an ex-hat".

Chapman balked at the suggestion he should be rid of the foul piece of apparel. He waxed lyrical about how he and the hat had been such constant companions over the years, how it had sheltered his bonce through both fair weather and foul, and how it was more a part of him than many of his bodily appendages, how it would be such a wrench to be parted from such a dear friend, never mind to simply cast it aside now he has spent it's usage. "If only", he said, waxing whimsical, "there were some place, a land, fair and bright, that my hat could retire to; a kindly home, a state for the dispossessed hats of the world, to unite, to live out their final days in peace and harmony....."

Keats noted that if such a place did exist that it would probably, owing to the many varieties of hats demanding their own say in it's affairs, be constituted as a Fedoration. Chapman binned the offending rag.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

 

Movie (b/m)adness

Keats was regaling Chapman one evening after having attended a lecture in his ongoing Masters in Film Studies at the local tech, with an anecdote relating to the '70's penchant for the "cast of thousands epic block buster star studded war film", a genre unto itself, it seems. The film in question was "A Bridge Too Far".

"Yes", continued Keats, "it seems that the original 'directors cut', was 4 and a half hours long, and was unpopular with test audiences who required the use of their legs after the performance. The hack-producers demanded slimming down by a couple of hours, but when re-shown to the test audiences, such was the severity of the cuts, no one could understand the plot".

"Ah yes", offered Chapman from behind the Evening Press, as he scrunched noisily to the Ask the Experts column, "abridged too far".

Sunday, October 10, 2010

 

You're all just a bunch of scruffy nerf-herders

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/feb/07/robin-mckie-benny-peiser-climate?showallcomments=true#end-of-comments

Benny Peiser says:

"While I reject economically damaging and, for that reason, politically unattainable climate policies, I am in favour of adapting to a changing climate and making our societies more resilient, as mankind has throughout its existence. "

Peiser is personally entitled to reject "economically damaging" policies to tackle climate change, but he is NOT entitled to the non-sequiteur that they are therefore "politically unattainable". As far as I am concerned, bailing out failed banks is very economically damaging (short, medium and long term), yet somehow that's "politically attainable".

In other words, he has no monopoly on the definition of what is economically damaging; and what's politically attainable is not his unilateral decision. Turkeys can vote for Christmas, if the alternative is ending up as foie gras. If society decides to damage HIS (by definition short term) economic interests (and/or mine) for the sake of long term avoidance of the impact of climate change, so be it. The fact that he is "in favour of adapting to a changing climate....." is the same as saying he is in favour of wrapping up warm when it's cold out i.e. he is saying and advocating precisely nothing. Of course we're not REALLY talking about his or my economic interests, we're talking about Lawson et al's economic interests, aren't we?

If Peiser can make associations like "climate change policies are economically damaging" then anyone can. "Climate change policies are economically favourable" because they include the introduction of new forms of technology giving rise to new jobs in brand new economic sectors. That's just as likely to be correct and/or just as easy to argue. Not to mention that when ever it happens, and it will, fossil fuels will run out: "Early adaptors of alternative technologies will benefit, in the same way as early adaptors of fossil fuel economics did." See? I can make up baseless assertions that sound like they make sense as well as Peiser. Which is why we have the scientific method. Peiser's assertions about the nature of the credibility of climate science are just that - assertions with no basis in fact.

What's interesting though is that he appears so embedded (of course, given his job), his implicit assumptions make clear to the rest of us what we really need to understand:

The political process is so corrupt that it can't represent the interests of ordinary people, so hijacked has it been by vested short term interests. If you want something done about climate change, voting labour, tory, lib dem or green wont help. It's only through sustained grass roots activism akin to the abolitionist movement, or the civil rights or anti-war movements in the US in the '60's that sufficient change will take place. These examples show us it can, even in the teeth of the vicious guard-dogs slavering to "protect" us from "economic damage".

His late stage denialist position: "ok, global warming can occur due to anthropogenic CO2, but it wont be as bad as they say" is the "modern dinner-party denialist about town" fall back stance of surprisingly many otherwise well educated but, crucially, innumerate middle class opinion formers. Over ciabatta they opine: "Global warming, oh sure that exists, but predicting the future, computer models, what's all that about? I'm sure it can't be as bad as all that". How long will it take for the fall back to the "ok, global warming is real, and it will be bad as you said, BUT ......" stance?

Monday, October 04, 2010

 

Quod Erat Demonstrandum

Descending the lift from work the other day, I noticed a guy get on carrying a book. As you do, I glanced down to scan the title and was instantly intrigued: "How to win every argument". It's rather an out of character thing for me to do, but I couldn't help myself spontaneously opine to the guy, whom I didn't know, since we were otherwise bereft of company for the duration of the trip, "That's fundamentally a pretty dishonest book isn't it?". He seemed puzzled but said "Well, actually it's really interesting, I'm finding it really useful. But why would you say it's dishonest?".

"Well", I replied, "you can't always justifiably win every argument since can't always be right, can you?". He pondered this for a while, as the doors pinged and we reached the ground floor. Then he said as we went our separate ways, somewhat wistfully I thought: "You can't always be wrong either though can you?".

As I descended the escalator to the tube I pondered this: "Hmmm. Stalemate", I reasoned.

So much for the book.

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