Dinner by Heston

The kitchen. The six of us were sitting directly opposite at a U shaped table where we took in all the action. These chefs and their side-kicks certainly earn their money. It's frantic and full on from start to finish

The head chef, who talked us through each course. the line up in front of him is our plonk which I can confirm cost an arm and both legs. It was worth it

The food was simply fantastic. Reputation is everything at this level.There is simply no room for error 

Dinner by Heston

The wines were just stunning

More food, every bit as good as every other dish

This dude is preparing our Nitro ice-cream. this is one of Heston's party tricks and a pretty impressive one at that 

The chaps yearly London bash

Every year or so my good friend Colin and I fly over from New Zealand and spend about ten days hanging out in a variety of interesting bars and restaurants.
As we both turn 60 this year we thought we would up the anti and expand our activities.
To that end, our friend Chris flew over for the occasion, Colin's mate Gazz winged in from Africa and son Richard fronted for a short stay with his parents, having flown to Beijing where he picked up The Trans Siberian to Moscow. After spending a few days with his mates in Berlin, Richard finally fronted at our apartment on the same day Colin and Chris arrived from Auckland. Along the way we would pick up a number of Colin's UK based friends for three of the more important lunches.
Friday started slowly with an obligatory kick off drink at The Grenadier, the former mess for some of The Duke of Wellingtons senior staff. Lunch at the Guinea and the die was cast.
SATURDAY, having convinced Julia she needed a lunch out, we headed directly to the Spaniards Inn on Hamstead  Heath. This is a great pub with history to burn (it's probably worth checking same out on the net).
On SUNDAYwe spent a pleasant day in Wimbledon, an area where both Colin and the John Alcorn family had briefly lived back in the mid nineties, then it was onto a great pub lunch and a pub crawl, obligatory stuff for a Sunday.
MONDAYand we are down to the serious stuff, with Hakkasan Mayfair first up on our hit list. There is no question about it, this Michilin-starred Asian fusion restauarant serves up brilliant food in opulent surroundings.
TUESDAYand it's the Savoy Grill, not the greatest food experience (the Grill itself is run by Gordon Ramsay, enough said) however the revamped hotel is a sight to be seen. I don't know how many hundreds of millions they spent on the recent upgrade, however what I do know is that the result is simply spectacular.
WEDNESDAY, Greens in Cornhill in the finance district. Silver service, lots of "suits" doing their million dollar deals over lunch. All very interesting.
THURSDAY, the official 60th joint birthday celebration held at the OXO Tower restaurant just a stone's throw from Blackfriars bridge. Great views over the Thames , our party of eight had a brilliant afternoon. I should mention one guest, Roger Smith, a friend of Colin's and one of the world's finest watchmakers. Roger is a true artisan. He and his small team put together something like ten watches annually. As a treat Roger had dragged along one of his recent creations, a prototype  for a soon to be manufactured limited release of thirty five watches. And the price for this time piece? Big gulp , drum roll please.......£179,000. Just imagine if you owned one of these suckers and the strap broke. It wouldn't bear thinking about.
FRIDAY, off to my favourite restaurant , Zuma in Knightsbridge. I've been here a number of times before with Julia, Colin and Chris and I have to say that if you are looking for great food and top atmosphere this is the place , no question about it.
SATURDAY, the final hurrah and a real biggie!
Colin had booked six of us into the chef's table at Dinner by Heston Blumenthal, located in the  Mandarin  Oriental Hotel. This is the real deal. Currently rated as 'number nine' restaurant in the world.
We had a bird's eye view of all the action in the kitchen and let me tell you there was action aplenty. These chefs and their extensive support crew weren't messing about. We arrived at 1230 on the dot (as requested) departed at 1630 and during that time the kitchen was a hive of activity. This was one expensive meal, however it was a real experience and one I felt privileged to be party to.
I wouldn't normally harp on about a menu however this is one exception.
Nine period courses in total with matching wines. 
This wasn't a lunch for the faint-hearted.
1) Roast scallops with cucumber ketchup. 1826.The Cook and
   Housewife's Manual Mistress Meg Dodds
2) Roast Marrowbone. 1720. The Cook's and Confectioner's Dictionary
    by John Nott
3) Meat Fruit. C. 13th-15th century
4) Roast Turbot and Cockle Ketchup. 1830. A New System of Domestic
      Cookery by Maria Eliza Rundell
5) Chicken  cooked with Lettuces. 1672. The Queene-like Closet or Rich
     Cabinetry Hannah Wooley
6) Beef Royal. 1716. Royal Cookery by Patrick Lamb
7) Tarte of Strawberries (c.1591). 1591 Book of Cookrye Very necessary 
     for all such as Delight therein by A.W
8) Tipsy Cake. 1859. The English cookery book by J.H.Walsh
9) Nitro Ice-cream Trolley
The experience was almost overwhelming. It's no wonder Heston is regarded as "The Man" . The guy is a genius  and the results speak for themselves.
And that was that. The guys went back home and I immediately started recovery work on my liver.
It's now two weeks on since that final lunch and I'm pleased to be able to advise that my body is just about back to normal.
Was it worth it. 
Of course it was.
That's what life is all about, n'est-ce pas?

Cheers
PS. I had thought of listing Heston's wine list for that particular lunch or outlining all the interesting pubs we dropped into during that frantic ten day period, however when I started thinking about these lists a queasy feeling came over me so I think I will quit whilst I'm still ahead. My liver is giving me the message not to press my luck.

A Wynn-free Dolphin Square is just eleven days away!

No more multiple requests for power readings. No more deranged conversations. No more constructive negativity. No more face to face confrontations with the Devil's spawn on earth. Actually, come to think of it things might become a tad boring  

I wonder over these last twenty five years how many tenants have given thought to saving the human race by way of drowning Wynn in this pool. I must admit the thought crossed my mind

Great news, Wynn bites the dust!

Guys , a number of you have commented regarding a blog I sent earlier in the piece where I outlined the contact I had with the evil crone on the Customer Services Desk (that's a joke) at our Dolphin Square  complex.
Whenever I have very occasionally dwelt on the question of whether God in fact exists, the inevitable thought that always pops into my mind is, if this sucker is in fact the real deal, does he have a sense of humour and/or a dark side.
On every occasion  I've been forced to have contact with the evil woman on the CS Desk, I've gone away wondering what kind of sick joke God has pulled on the residents of Dolphin Square.
It's hard to believe that so much evil and negativity could reside within the wizened up body of this creature who claims to be a humanoid.
To get a handle on what she's like, can I just say that if you were to combine the characters of Albert Steptoe (Steptoe & Son) and Dot Branning (The Eastenders) , well you would be getting pretty close to the mark.
Whenever I'm forced to visit the CS Desk and encounter this public relations disaster on two pins, two immediate thoughts come to mind.
1) FLEE! , and fast or
2) Quick, tape her mouth and stick a brown paper bag over her head before 
     she has time to react.
So friends, I have to tell you that today's residents circular announcing the retirement of one Wynn Mitchell will be very welcome news to all Dolphin Square residents.
Julia thinks this poor excuse for a human being has probably been fired. I would like to think that's the case however to be honest I can't see that any of her managers would have the guts for a full on frontal attack. This old bird doesn't take prisoners.
Anyway, the last hurrah is on Thursday 26th July when the Dolphin Tenants Association are inviting us to cough up seven quid to attend Wynn's farewell party.
Instinct tells me to stay well away from that function however I think we might just pop along and hopefully earwig in on a few final shots that will inevitably pour out of this evil dwarf's mouth.

Last shots in France

Party central, Chateauneuf du Pape, the town square . A great location to kill a couple of hours late afternoon

The back wall of the Roman Theatre in Orange. In the flesh this facility is huge. Over the last two thousand years punters have speculated on why the Romans went overboard with this particular theatre , a facility which ranks up there as one of the greats

The Pont du Gard just outside Orange. These Romans knew a thing or two about construction. it's just a pity they are not around to assist with the Christchurch reconstruction 

INTERMISSION IS OVER!

Four and a half months down with three and a half to go
Where has the time gone. One minute we are boarding the plane from Christchurch , and in the blink of an eye we are halfway through July
It's hard to believe we have been back from France for nearly a month
Our life for these last four weeks has been frantic, and frankly, really interesting
There is so much stuff to talk about so we will shortly thrash out a few blogs covering our wild ten days of birthday celebrations in London , plus our recent trips to Stockholm, Berlin and Amsterdam
However before we get onto that we thought we should take one parting shot at our Southern France experience. All the stuff that follows was written whilst we were kicking back in Fleurie, our last stop in France
This just about sums things up
We are in our final days in France and we both agree on two things. First and foremost it's been a great two months and we have loved every minute. That said we have been on the go all day and night for something like sixty days and we both concede that we are ready for next Mondays flight out of Lyon back to London. That will give us a week to recharge our batteries prior to the arrival of various friends for a week of partying.
Highlights? There are too many to list. We arrived in Bordeaux back in April full of expectations and we haven't been  disappointed.
Julia in particular loves the country and it's people and I have no doubt that given half a chance she would hang out in Northern Provence for an extended period.
I don't have the same feelings for the place as I find it too laid back and predictable. Ground Hog Day comes to mind.
Irrespective of location, breakfast is always mind numbingly  predictable.. Bread, croissants, cheese, ham, jams, coffee or black tea.
Off course you can live on the wild side and change the order of consumption however this is the stuff the locals have been consuming for the last five hundred years so why change.
This morning our hotel threw in a real curve ball in the form of boiled eggs.
What! Boiled eggs? Who eats boiled eggs for breakfast? Ah, I know, it's to satisfy the demands of that very vocal  English woman.
It's a scandal . 
We must discuss this further over morning tea whilst downing our obligatory daily intake of Rose, then carry on the discussion over today's three hour lunch, dream about same during our four hour afternoon break, recommence dialogue about this dangerous change of course during our pre dinner drinks (rose, what else?) and obviously talk the subject to death over our six course three hour dinner this evening.
Manger, this has to be the most overused word in the French language.
It starts at breakfast. What am I going to eat, what are you going to eat. Have we made the right choice. Will I enjoy this breakfast as much as previous breakfasts, and on and on.
Then it's down to mid morning drinks. First up has to be a post match analysis of the breakfast eating experience. It was good for me. Was it equally good for you. How do you feel now that we are only ninety minutes away from lunch. And talking about lunch, what do you feel like today. The sun is shining, it's twenty six degrees with a five knot wind from the south east. Bearing in mind these conditions I feel the following suggestions for lunch might be appropriate. Then again these are just my initial thoughts. We don't have to rush this decision. After all we have a further hour and a half before we need to place an order.
Then onto lunch. Kiss, kiss, kiss (must be Parisians, Rose all round, now let's get serious about ordering food. All of us have been thinking of nothing else for these past three hours. We don't want to make a mistake . Right, let's risk all and order the same menu we have ordered every day for the last twenty five years. I hope it lives up to expectation . Either way we can progress this food discussion as we eat, then follow up with a post lunch analysis .
Enough about food, it's time for a lenghty sleep, there's nothing else to do at this time of day as all the shops and businesses close for the afternoon.
Five o'clock, time to get cracking.
Down to the bar for more Rose , wait for dinner mates to arrive and commence discussions over what we might order this evening.
Manger, manger, manger...
At this stage I make the decision to save myself the cost of any future psycho bills , quietly exit the bar, wander into a nearby vineyard , and promptly shoot myself.

Manger= to eat