I’d like to be able to say that the ravishing branches of Magnolia in the arrangements at Claridge’s Hotel were an augury of Spring, but I would be blatantly lying, as there seems to be no hope of anything other than snow, sleet, driving rain and gusts of wind. Frankly, I’d like to emulate Posetta Baddog and just wrap myself in my silk covered eiderdown until Summer arrives.
On Monday night I was a speaker at a food-themed story-telling benefit for The Ministry of Stories in Shoreditch, along with Jay Rayner & The Boy Who Bakes — Great British Bake Off winner Ed Kimber. (More of this later.) There’s nothing like telling a packed room about your food memories of childhood to make you ravenously hungry (even after tasting The Meringue Girls Hot Cross Bun meringues) so I took my sister for burritos at Chilango in Islington afterwards.
On Tuesday I headed to Scott’s on Mount Street in Mayfair for a lunch to celebrate the launch of the Style Guides for this year’s Royal Ascot. I was seated next to Charles Bartlett, the CEO of Ascot Racecourse, so in the interests of politesse tried to rein in my zest (gluttony) for the utterly wonderful food we were served.
This was hands down the most delicious plate of food I have eaten so far this year: a perfect risotto, with plump morels and wild garlic (which is just coming into season). For pudding we were served home made raspberry ripple ice cream with little chunks of nougat and raspberry coulis drenched fresh raspberries. Almost illegally good.
Here’s one of my oldest friends (twenty-four years!), the TV producer Rollo Ross, who also happens to be my producing partner in our new digital film production company, Wilkins & Ross, who was also at the lunch.
Fortunately for the sake of my arteries, I had to run away from lunch to a meeting with my agents at Curtis Brown. (We have exciting plans in the pipeline.) Then it was off to Regent’s Park to walk the hound in the hour window of sunshine between the torrential rain. I can’t quite compute that the pussy willow is nearly over when we haven’t had Spring yet.
I spent most of the walk ferreting P Bad out of the shrubberies.
Rather unfortunately for my avoirdupois, my Tuesday evening engagement was a dinner hosted by the ineffably charming Jeff Rudes CEO of J Brand, at Hix’s Tramshed back in the heart of Shoreditch.
You have to love a restaurant whose idea of a first course is a Yorkshire Pud. For my main course I had bubble & squeak with greens and a poached egg.
It was such a lovely evening (held to celebrate the excellent ready to wear collection which just grows better & better each season), with two long tables served family-style in the gallery above the restaurant, filled with happy friends of the label from Christopher Kane to editors from Vogue, Hunger, Style, LOVE, Harper’s Bazaar…I had a great time with my friends Esquire’s Catherine Hayward, and stylist Angela Scanlon, as we ate our way through the menu.
I think this photo shows the fallacy that fashion people do not eat.
The splendid goodwill engendered by supper was somewhat dissipated by the discovery upon returning home that Posetta Baddog had managed to puncture and then drag a full garbage bag about five times her size down the hallway from the kitchen. Oh the NAUGHTINESS. (And the sheer bloody-minded determination.)
Hmmm.…you’d think that butter wouldn’t melt in its mouth.
I had an extremely delicious work breakfast on Thursday at The York & Albany in Camden to discuss new online retailer Atelier to Go: sauteed mushrooms on toast, with poached eggs and a large pot of green tea.
And to round the week off: a delivery of the ten greatest hits of Gu Puds, to celebrate ten years of their scrumptious puddings. I particularly recommend the Chocolate Torte.
Unfortunately I was not very well on Friday. Heavens forbid it was anything to do with all the food I scarfed this week…