What a week. I really must rid myself of the idea I never get anything done. I’ve whirled and I’ve whirled, from the 0844 Lausanne-Paris train on Monday morning, and an afternoon in the Marais, through an EPIC IKEA mission (two carts & some bashed ankle action), tea at Claridges with Nicky Kinnaird to see what she’s got in store at SpaceNK, a broken 5″ heel rendering me flamingo-like in Portland Place, (hopping not being one of my core skilz), a stupendously early morning mission to Covent Garden Flower Market, a session at the orthodontist, Literary Salon at Shoreditch House (Chris Cleave, Richard Holloway, Alex Shulman, Colm Toibin), late night pizza with darling Anne, to today spent making fourteen flower arrangements and frenetically tidying my flat.
That’s because tonight was the dinner I hosted for seven journalists on behalf of the lovely people at Gü Puds at my London flat. It was too, too much fun, and Gü head chef Fred, and his trusty sous Jerome kicked some serious chocolate ass over three appetisers, five courses & a serious wine pairing.
Using Gü’s signature glass ramekins, I made a posy for each table setting, using orange & pink ranunculus, blush anemones, rosemary and all sorts of lovely stuff. There was my grandmother’s cut glass, the wildly impractical candlesticks I bought back from New York in my carry on, luggage label placecards I bought in Merci in the 3e on Monday, and my canteen of vintage silver cutlery.
Candle light, conversation and a lot of laughing. It’s wonderful when an evening which could ostensibly be considered a work event becomes so much more.
I am too exhausted to write any more tonight, but lots more to come….
Above: Duck egg with cream, maple syrup, ras el hanout, and chocolate brioche