I'm in London visiting friends. I've just been treated to lunch at the Bleeding Heart bistro in Clerkenwell. Nightmare of cobbles to get over. Caught a taxi from Paddington and the driver dropped me off close to the entrance so managed to avoid major body shakedown. And luckily it's hot weather so we could sit outside and not have to deal with toilet facilities (I have no idea what they're like. They may be amazing. I'm just happy not to have to find out).
The food was good but not breathtaking. Friends have given it high praise and I admit I was a little disappointed. My salad was excellent but basic. Lettuce, egg, bacon. Classic yet without the panache one might expect of such an establishment. The main course of haddock with petis pois, whilst perfectly cooked, was a trifle too rich. The mint tea poured from a silver pot was refreshing but the pot was not left with me.
Still, why am I complaining? The company was delightful, the conversation witty and nourishing. I'm in London without parental responsibility. I can ponder on the challenges I face being a governor of Salisbury Hospital (I'll write about it another time. Suffice to say, I had no idea when I submitted my nomination quite how important or serious the post was. The document outlining the roles and responsibilites of NHS Foundation Trust governors runs to fifty pages). I'm having a quick refuelling stop at Costa before meeting my next friend. I love this city!
