Saturday, 21 July 2012

The Limehouse Half Cut

It's been another contrary week in Contrary Towers. This will be the last post with both of the ladies that brunch as one of us is off to live on an island for a week and be force fed nice food by semi-naked Croatian waiters as the pool boy applies her sun tan cream.

I think I need to lay down at the thought.

Anyway, as she is leaving me in jolly old blighty with my brolly and thermal knickers I thought I needed to set the record straight. Or get a few digs in. You choose.

So. Big news. Yesterday was my last day in Notting Hell. I have been a little concerned that I had nothing to replace the supply of champagne tokens that I got from being there, so, was exceptionally pleased to be holed up in a Caffé Nero on a telephone interview with Megacorp. Well, when I say pleased, I did miss having lunch, which was probably a good thing in hindsight. After all, we decided to have an unexpected weigh-in owing to my flatmate not being here on Monday. We won't issuing the figures.

Not Contrary Towers
I wandered back to the dungeon and hadn't been there long when I was told, rather surprisingly that Megacorp wanted to see me face-to-face, could I be at their secret missile launch facility in East London by 4pm. Okay. Duh. And with that I left Notting Hell for the last time, I'm not intending to go back if I can help it. I liked the people, hated the area.

Some hours later, they talked to me for a long time, or I talked to them anyway, I do rather go on a bit, I was skipping towards the District Line and a quick journey to Embankment and a session looking at the Chris Ofili paintings hanging at the National Gallery's Metamorphosis exhibition. The plan was I would look at those, for the second time, whilst my flatmate was in a lecture, then we'd find some mischief to get in to.


The funny thing was, we couldn't and after mentally drawing a blank... Found a comedy event as we walked through Covent Garden. Oh. We got tickets and, as we had time, wandered over to the Strada on Great Queen Street for a spot of something Italian and something champagney. As you do. It was definitely the highlight of the evening as, frankly, the comedy event was, what's the word? Shite. You live and learn. It was an awful venue, okay for a hotel, but comedy? No. I am trying to wash the memory from my mind.

Quite sensibly.

We returned to Contrary Towers, slightly squiffy from champagne and vodka, which is the Friday entry for the diet and a good night sleep. Saturday would be doing stuff and, err, stuff.


We went to Contrary Wharf, I mean Canary Wharf. My flatmate needed stuff and I needed a reason to avoid doing any work. So I was moral support. Got that? Actually, the shopping went well, so we ended up at The Parlour for half egg benedicts and coffee.

Which must be diet food as it was an itsy bitsy portion!

I did win... Once. Pfft.
And quite delicious. It would have been a perfect brunch, except that I also discovered that Clare is in the National Connect 4 team and renowned for her killer double trap moves that leave opponents wimpering. She's also, I do believe, a mean hand with the ping pong bat. This really is not a euphemism! In the end the Contrary Towers Connect 4 championship was won by Clare with a score of 2-1-D which is not bad, I was in a lot of trouble, quite an evil and vicious mind. I like her so much.

She was also quite surprised when I did manage to win one game. I shall retire whilst I'm ahead.

The only trouble with sitting there was we discovered the concept of the breakfast martini. We didn't have one but thought it would be a fine way to spend the afternoon. But... We had no martini glasses! So, off to Waitrose/John Lewis for a quick emergency purchase of martini glasses, limes, marmalade, grapefruit juice, ice and...

Fish Fingers.

The Limehouse Half Cut...
Oh yes. Sod the bloody diet, we were planning fish finger sandwiches because we iz seriously classy. I have to say the Limehouse Half Cut is gorgeous, this is an official Contrary Towers Cocktail and we will sue LOCOG if they try to steal the idea. They have been warned.

So, how to make, add a cocktail shaker capful of orange vodka to the shaker with ice and a big spoon of orange marmalade (fine cut), shake like a mad thing. Add the mix to chilled glasses, add grapefruit juice, rub the edge with limes and pop the limes in.

Drink. Fall over. Limehouse Cut
You know the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster? Like that, but gorgeous. And a bit tart. Like us then. The marmalade adds the sweetness to balance the tart from the kitchen, I mean grapefruit, the orange vodka iz sooblime and we's reazzly louv you and wans a kebanbvb. We are now on our second, so the likelihood is we might not make much sense for the rest of the day. No change there, I just really hope I manage to pour her in to a taxi at 3am for her trip to the airport and flight to paradise.

Meanwhile I'll have a luxurious lay in then wander over to St Katherine's dock to be suutably decadent.

After all, it will be Sunday...


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