‘Two Posts a day’? Not blimmin’ likely. Although in my defence I have been out getting a bit of cultcha. Saw an Alan Bennett play tonight called ‘The History Boys‘ at the National Theatre. Perhaps bizarrely it’s one of my favourite buildings in London - I find it’s brutalist minimalism fascinating - but for some reason i’ve not been inside before.
The play really was incredibly good. I wouldn’t have gone of my own accord, for some reason associating Alan Bennett with nothing but whimsical reminiscences about a Northern upbringing. I’m very glad I did though. This was hilarious, superbly acted, beautifully written, moving, poignant, thoughtful. All in all very highly recommended.
Very unlike a place we went for a bite to eat beforehand. It was called Giraffe and is seemingly part of a chain spreading virus-like all over London. Avoid it. I could deal with the ‘garlic’ bread accompanying the soup being quite the most disgusting thing containing yeast and flour I had ever tasted (it had a flavour of 5-times used cooking oil), but my Vegetable Burrito was something else.
To be fair the filling wasn’t too bad. Mangos, mushrooms, two types of cheese, ’spicy’ sauce. Well actually, no, that wasn’t very good either. But I could handle that. What really wasn’t good was that beneath this was an inch thick layer or tortilla that was a: welded to the hot plate it had been cooked on and b: of a remarkable consistency something along the lines of fossilised plaster that despite considerable effort I couldn’t even dent with a knife or fork. So out of a miniscule portion of dinner to begin with (my stomach wept when it was placed in front of me), a third of it was completely and utterly inedible.
So the otherwise helpful waiter came to collect plates and I showed him this large thick rock still welded to mine. And also demonstrated it’s remarkable resistance to cutlery.
Him: ‘Oh sir, I am sorry. That is completely unacceptable‘.
and whisked it away for what I assumed would be forensic testing and a date with the manager.
So then 2 minutes later he appears with the bill, plonks it on the table and disappears without a word. Looking at the bill I see they haven’t taken anything off for my inedible dinner, and have even kindly added on 12.5% service charge for us.
So of course I try and get his attention.
Me: ‘Excuse me, but you described my meal as ‘completely unacceptable’ but have still decided to charge me full price for it.
Him: ‘Yes sir’
Me: ‘Well don’t you think that seeing as a large portion of it was inedible I should be entitled to some sort of discount’
Him: ‘I’m sorry sir, only the manager can authorise a discount on the bill’
Me: ‘Well do you think I might be able to speak to him?’
Now the manager had come over during the meal and asked how it was. Since we had to shoot off to the theatre pretty swiftly, we of course (being British) replied ‘Oh, it’s great thanks’. Despite having just been moaning about it.
I’ll sort it out afterwards, I thought.
So he comes over.
Manager: ‘Is there a problem with the bill?’
Me: (after describing the archeological find) ‘….. so most of my dinner was inedible. The waiter described it as completely unacceptable. And i’ve been charged full price for it’
Manager: ‘But I came over during the meal and you said everything was fine. If you’d told me there was a problem I could have changed it’
What the fuck? Did the waiter not show you the enormous fossil stuck to my plate? Why am I arguing about this? Just take the fucking ‘burrito’ off the bill.
Me: ‘Yes, but we have to leave for the theatre in a minute. I didn’t want to have an argument about it in the middle of my meal, and then have to eat it on my own once everyone else had finished. Or more likely not eat anything as we’d have to leave’
Manager looks at me like i’m trying it on, then rolls his eyes
‘I’ll see what I can do sir’
Manager returns, and speaking as if he’s done us a massive favour
‘There you go sir. I’ve taken 10% off the entire bill for you.’
Now this didn’t even cover the compulsory tip, and still meant that i’d spent nealy a fiver on, well, about five mouthfuls of shit food.
So I did the only decent thing and stood outside for five minutes telling everyone who looked at the menu that it was a shithole and to go and eat elsewhere.
Apologies for turning into whatever the opposite of WaiterRant is for a minute there, but it’s the sort of chain that’s spreading round London like a cancer and which even though it’s quite aimed at families you may at some point be tempted to eat in. I feel it’s my duty to prevent you from doing so.
So if you’re still with me, the reason I logged in was not to moan about my dinner but to post up another cracking track.
Released on the mainly superb Soma Quality Recordings in 1996 this is a tasty little number by Russ Gabriel - proprietor of the excellent Ferox label, and purveyor of fine jazzy techno soul.
No words I could conjure up in an attempt to describe this could possibly beat the title. ‘Alligator Voodoo’. For that is what this is.
It’s swampy.
And far tastier than anything any Giraffe has ever done.
RUSS GABRIEL - ALLIGATOR VOODOO
Discogs
Oh, and the title of this post refers to that long lost friend the sky. Which today appeared from behind the gloom for the first time this YEAR
Welcome back brother.
