These three days promise to be musical ones! Today and tomorrow, I'm with TAC - first time in a while. Tonight, I went to see the Fibonacci Quartet, for the Kirckman Concerts at King's Place. And my sometime companion came too - we ate at the Rotunda in King's Place beforehand. I just hoped they wouldn't keep us waiting all night, as they have had a tendency to do!
I was there first, got a table by the window. Nobody fancied eating outside, on a night as bitter as this. Anyway, I hadn't ordered by the time my companion arrived - baulking at the price of the New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, we went for Chardonnay instead - one of the cheapest wines they have, and quite decent. I had chicken, she had a bruschetta starter and a lamb steak - and we both had fries.
My chicken was distinctly underwhelming - I wouldn't have it again. No flavour, and a bit burnt. The fries, however, were lovely - although fairly heavily presalted, so while I finished them, I wouldn't have had a second portion. I was really jealous of the steak, which looked gorgeous, but wasn't sufficiently cooked for her liking - she'd asked for it well done, but it came pink in the middle. Which raises an interesting question - that's the way I like it.. so, if I were to have it in future, should I ask for it well done, or medium - in which case, could I expect it rare? The mind boggles. If I had to choose, I think I'd go for well done - I HATE rare meat.
I was, however, impressed with the speed of the service, which has really improved. Well, it did until we'd finished our mains, at which point I would have expected someone to ask whether we wanted dessert. Not that I wanted one, you understand - I would just have liked to be asked! But we weren't - and when my companion caught a waiter's eye and he came a few minutes later, he was already carrying the bill. To be fair, we had mentioned we were heading to the concert, so he probably realised we didn't have time. And so we paid and went down - conversation had been good, it's been a while since we saw each other.
No bar downstairs, unfortunately - which worried me slightly, because I have a niggling cough. Not even any water to be had. We were sat a few rows apart, having bought our tickets separately:
Ah, it's so long since I was last here! For that matter, it's so long since I was last at a classical concert anywhere.. and it was nice just to sit back and let my mind drift. We started with some Mozart - who's always been one of my favourites. I wasn't as keen on the Bartók that followed - which was introduced by one of the quartet (and they could have done with amplification for speaking to us - I could hardly hear them). Frankly, it's just a bit too weird, even for me! Although I'm sure I've heard snatches in horror films..
At the interval, I went back up to the Rotunda and joined the queue at the bar. Interestingly, a couple came back along the queue and he popped in front of me - his companion was horrified, asking whether I was in the queue. "Well, yes.." whereupon she berated him. Whereupon he countered by pointing out that they had got there first, and were asking about the queue. But then, he conceded, there was only one of me (my companion wasn't having any more and was visiting the loo), and I was probably only getting one drink. And there wasn't much difference anyway. I shuffled in front of him and left them to it, as they discussed how very English this topic was..
I got another Chardonnay - they didn't have the NZ Sauvignon Blanc by the glass. And I tell you, it was very welcome in the second half, as I made it last by sipping it slowly every time I felt a tickle in my chest. Also handy in the second half was that the people in front of me had left, which meant I could rest my coat on their seats. Perhaps they're not fans of the Schubert that finished the concert. Anyway, it was lovely - but perhaps the prettiest tune of the night was the encore, a new arrangement, by themselves apparently, of an old Belgian folk tune.
On Thursday, I was to be back at
Watkin's Occult Bookshop, first time in ages - this was for a
talk from the author of a new book - on
Book Curses! Eating afterwards at
Bella Italia Cranbourn Street again. But I subsequently decided to check out the film list - and top of the list was
No Other Land, a documentary formed from a young
Palestinian boy filming every eviction from his village by
Israeli forces. Teams up with a sympathetic Israeli to do it. Sounded more interesting to me. Closest showing to me is in the
BFI - and with it mostly sold out, I said I'd better book. Eating in
The Archduke beforehand.
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