Day 25 – London

A new day, a hint off bluesky and sunshine. A quick skype with L’s mum and it was time for more continental breakfast. I know it’s been days since I had bacon and a fried egg but I’m sure my digestive system will thank me for it one day.

Today was Oxford St, with a bit of the rest of the West End for good measure. L wanted to shop, and where better really (I’m not keen on letting her loose and unsupervised in Harrod’s). She had a list of locations, checked it twice, and off we went. Quick stop at Marble Arch for a photo, then away into retail nirvana. While L got on her retail mojo I took the opportunity to get some cold and flu medicine, as the cold sore throat tickle is coming on, and also grabbed the London essential, a weekly oyster card for the tube and buses.

Stopped in Mothercare so L could go crazy on buying clothes for various friends’ little ones, providing a little guidance (invited and otherwise) into L’s plan to turn them into little Village People.

Had a delightful morning tea in Selfridges, a peanut butter cupcake and tea. Ended up going back here for lunch, where I had a salt beef and tongue on rye with horseradish and a gherkin. Maybe it’s a bad time of year for pickles, as this one seemed to lack some flavour. The beef and tongue were good though.

Before lunch we chhecked out the Wallace Collection, as K would probably disown me if I didn’t go there at least once in 3 trips to London. Basically Mr Wallace had a lot of money and the right friends in the 19th Century, and was able to put together a pretty decent swag of stuff: paintings, sculpture, arms and armor, Marie Antionette’s furniture, and other old stuff, and not folks can check it out for free. The armoury was grand, all sorts of swords, guns (the double barrel under and over flintlock pistols were fascination, and some of the work that went into carving gun stocks was intricate and amazing) as well as other nasty devices for bashing brains out.

The paintings were a little light on, some big names but mostly their less well known stuff. Some Rembrant, Titian, Ruebens (the big room with all his stuff was closed), a Turner, a Constable. A cool painting of Mdme Pompidour, and I’m always amazed at how impressive the lighting and smoothness of faces in these older works. Sure I’m a dinosaur, but why can’t folks paint like that anymore?

After lunch and we hit Debenhams, and Liberty (omg how fucking expensive is that place), a stroll down Regent St and Carnaby St (where one shop at least was playing The Jam) before stopping for afternoon tea. Then it was a quick stroll to Picadilly Circus, up Shaftsbury, through Soho via Kirsty’s bench in Soho Square, and onto the tube at Tottenham Court Road for a break back at the hotel.

Dinner was a pre-birthday pressie for me from L (though my birthday isn’t until February, L celebrates hers while we’re here so she thought we should have a birthday dinner for me, too). St John’s at Smithfield. St John’s is the wonderful creation of Fergus Henderson, a man after my own heart (well, heart, liver, kidneys, not mine, but lamb, rabbit, cows, you get the picture). Mr Henderson has been at the forefront of repolularising the nasty bits, the unnattractive, untrendy meats and offal. He does this by serving them up and making them taste yummy., and calls it tip to taieating.

We arrived a little early, but as their clock was abbout 5 minutes slow, to them it was somewhat early so we were asked if we didn’t mind waiting in the bar. Not at all, I had a pint of Black Sheep, a fairly low alcohol, quaffing beer, ideal for getting started on a fine dinner. Once seated, our fabulous waiter gave us menus and also mentioned the specials, including an entree of the inside of a rabbit — not the whole insides, but liver, kidneys, heart and other stuff, served with savoy cabbage.. Also on the menu as a starter was St John’s kind of signature dish, bone marrow on toast with parsley salad. Unable to choose, I had both. Both were fabulous: the rabbit’s bits tasted yummy, delicate yet full of flavour. The bone marrow was a total treat: you get a little seafood fork to get the marrow out of the bones, but after a while I gave up and used my knife. Then (and they stressed to me the rright order) add a pinch of the special salt, and top with the salad. And eat and enjoy. And I did. L was a little disapproving at my exuberance of being given free rein to use my fingers and dig marrow out of bones. All good stuff, worked well paired with a random French wine the waiter recommended.

Mains was devilled lamb kidneys on toast, a great mix of spice and flavour. Kidneys are interesting, there’s the soft outer layer that is delicate, not so strong on the offal. Then there’s the insides, packed with gamey offal goodness. All mighty fine. For dessert I had the rhubarb crumble and custard, and it was pretty spectacular. A great balance of fruit and cream and citrus and crumble and sugar. I had it with an Irish whiskey I’d never tried before, Glenore, a lofty, delicate dram, a littly toasty, excellent on it’s own but lost among the bolder flavours of the crumble.

All in all a fine night out, great service, great food, not too pricey. I’d definitely go back.