Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Steak without chips
Following jigsaw 16 of one of the sunken gardens at Hampton Court (see July 7th) we decided yesterday that it was time to pay another visit to the real thing.
So off we go on a warm and muggy day to find that the Palace and its environs were littered with marquee fun. Not clear if this was the debris from the Hampton Court Flower show or the beginnings of some Olympic festival or other: has the womens' bantam weight water polo been moved down to the Thames? We managed to park in our usual car park despite these hazards and headed off through the rose garden - looking pretty well despite the dreadful weather - past the maze and out of the Lion Gate.
Cast around for the Italian restaurant more or less opposite the Gate which we used once before - though I can find no blogord - and which turned out to be La Fiamma (http://www.lafiamma.co.uk/). One large party of ladies lunching left plenty of room for us and we wound up with a good table next to the open French windows. So I had a view of Bushy Park while BH could keep an eye on the ladies lunching. Despite this we failed to work out what they were up to and there was no opportunity for a discrete word with one to find out. Their lunch had a leader who gave the lunch the tone of an Amway gathering - a pyramid sales outfit we had come across in Palmers' Green more than thirty years ago and which still appears to be very much alive at http://www.amway.co.uk/. The other ladies appeared to have day jobs and each had to do a couple of minutes spiel on what that was; middling sort of people who sounded as if they were in business in a modest way - beauty parlours, flower shops and that sort of thing. It all seemed a lot more focused than a social meeting of the ladies chapter of the local chamber of commerce, but what exactly it was will remain a puzzle. Good thing for La Fiamma though as their lunchtime would have been a bit quiet without them.
I was able to admire the comings and goings of the deer out in the park, with some of them, complete with large antlers, coming very close indeed. Others were keeping the underside of the park trees clipped nice and even, even rearing up on their hind legs to grab offending twigs when need arose. All very pretty in this context but must be a right pain if you get them in your garden - far worse than the foxes and squirrels that I moan about. And people do, not so very far at all from where we live, and we certainly had them stuffing themselves on our allotments when I used to do that.
Started off with antipasto for two, a handsomely arranged selection of savoury vegetable and charcuterie. I followed with an Italian variety of sirloin steak which turned up, in another handsome arrangement, looking for all the world like three rather fat and rather brown sausages, complete with a rich looking dark brown gravy. On closer inspection the sausages turned out to be thinly cut sirloin steak wrapped around peppers from more than one country. BH had something pastary involving duck breast. Both very gool. Washed down with a screw top Sancerre. Tiramisu for pudding turned out to be mainly flavoured cream, washed down with rather a fine pudding wine the name of which I forget but possibly a 2006 Capitelli IGT. All in all a very good meal, handsomely presented in a handsome restaurant. Lets hope they do enough business in the evening to keep them alive until we next think of going there.
After lunch took a turn around the newly gilded Diana Fountain, which has retained the interesting property of appearing to lean to the left from whatever angle you look at the thing. An illusion which has been going on for me for some years and I cannot work out how it works. Most frustrating.
All of which gave rise to an odd dream later in the day. I got it into my head that there was some sort of church somewhere on the south side of Hyde Park, a classic revival church looking rather like a small Greek Temple. Sat by itself in an island of green park, but near a tube station. Involving some steps down and some steps up. I had the distinct impression that I had visited this place in dreamtime before, but quite some years ago, and it took some while, while waking up, to convince myself that the place did not really exist.
And then later still we were in evacuation mode. Everyone to leave the country, or at least the area, double quick. BH thought it would be prudent if I stocked up with some warm vests for the purpose, to which end I went into this rather odd gents. outfitter, the sort of place which should have an elaborate display in its elaborate shop window and lots of elaborate woodwork inside. Lots of small drawers. But this one was not like that at all, with the several rooms inside heavily draped in white sheets instead. A connecting passage. The rather odd shop keeper appeared upside down at a hatch and tried quite hard to sell me some thin woollen sweaters on the grounds that they would do much better as vests than real vests. But I was not convinced at several pounds each and settled for just three, pending further consultation with BH. Forgetting that we were supposed to be doubling out of the area.
No idea what brought on either dream. The second, at least, had the virtue of being brand new rather than a retread.
So off we go on a warm and muggy day to find that the Palace and its environs were littered with marquee fun. Not clear if this was the debris from the Hampton Court Flower show or the beginnings of some Olympic festival or other: has the womens' bantam weight water polo been moved down to the Thames? We managed to park in our usual car park despite these hazards and headed off through the rose garden - looking pretty well despite the dreadful weather - past the maze and out of the Lion Gate.
Cast around for the Italian restaurant more or less opposite the Gate which we used once before - though I can find no blogord - and which turned out to be La Fiamma (http://www.lafiamma.co.uk/). One large party of ladies lunching left plenty of room for us and we wound up with a good table next to the open French windows. So I had a view of Bushy Park while BH could keep an eye on the ladies lunching. Despite this we failed to work out what they were up to and there was no opportunity for a discrete word with one to find out. Their lunch had a leader who gave the lunch the tone of an Amway gathering - a pyramid sales outfit we had come across in Palmers' Green more than thirty years ago and which still appears to be very much alive at http://www.amway.co.uk/. The other ladies appeared to have day jobs and each had to do a couple of minutes spiel on what that was; middling sort of people who sounded as if they were in business in a modest way - beauty parlours, flower shops and that sort of thing. It all seemed a lot more focused than a social meeting of the ladies chapter of the local chamber of commerce, but what exactly it was will remain a puzzle. Good thing for La Fiamma though as their lunchtime would have been a bit quiet without them.
I was able to admire the comings and goings of the deer out in the park, with some of them, complete with large antlers, coming very close indeed. Others were keeping the underside of the park trees clipped nice and even, even rearing up on their hind legs to grab offending twigs when need arose. All very pretty in this context but must be a right pain if you get them in your garden - far worse than the foxes and squirrels that I moan about. And people do, not so very far at all from where we live, and we certainly had them stuffing themselves on our allotments when I used to do that.
Started off with antipasto for two, a handsomely arranged selection of savoury vegetable and charcuterie. I followed with an Italian variety of sirloin steak which turned up, in another handsome arrangement, looking for all the world like three rather fat and rather brown sausages, complete with a rich looking dark brown gravy. On closer inspection the sausages turned out to be thinly cut sirloin steak wrapped around peppers from more than one country. BH had something pastary involving duck breast. Both very gool. Washed down with a screw top Sancerre. Tiramisu for pudding turned out to be mainly flavoured cream, washed down with rather a fine pudding wine the name of which I forget but possibly a 2006 Capitelli IGT. All in all a very good meal, handsomely presented in a handsome restaurant. Lets hope they do enough business in the evening to keep them alive until we next think of going there.
After lunch took a turn around the newly gilded Diana Fountain, which has retained the interesting property of appearing to lean to the left from whatever angle you look at the thing. An illusion which has been going on for me for some years and I cannot work out how it works. Most frustrating.
All of which gave rise to an odd dream later in the day. I got it into my head that there was some sort of church somewhere on the south side of Hyde Park, a classic revival church looking rather like a small Greek Temple. Sat by itself in an island of green park, but near a tube station. Involving some steps down and some steps up. I had the distinct impression that I had visited this place in dreamtime before, but quite some years ago, and it took some while, while waking up, to convince myself that the place did not really exist.
And then later still we were in evacuation mode. Everyone to leave the country, or at least the area, double quick. BH thought it would be prudent if I stocked up with some warm vests for the purpose, to which end I went into this rather odd gents. outfitter, the sort of place which should have an elaborate display in its elaborate shop window and lots of elaborate woodwork inside. Lots of small drawers. But this one was not like that at all, with the several rooms inside heavily draped in white sheets instead. A connecting passage. The rather odd shop keeper appeared upside down at a hatch and tried quite hard to sell me some thin woollen sweaters on the grounds that they would do much better as vests than real vests. But I was not convinced at several pounds each and settled for just three, pending further consultation with BH. Forgetting that we were supposed to be doubling out of the area.
No idea what brought on either dream. The second, at least, had the virtue of being brand new rather than a retread.
# posted by Jim @ 11:46 AM 
