These remind me of a nervous Summer sun where the light can't quite decide if its time to shine. It feels like that here; a tentative June, not warm enough to leave the house without a cardigan but too warm for black tights. But what a beautiful shoot. I love the dirty pink of the raspberry lemonade and the seaside ribbons of cucumber.
My last food shoot for Seven Publishing and I'm being silly.
In three weeks time I leave my home of 3 years and venture into a life without monthly pay checks, repro deadlines and glass sided meeting rooms. "Every so often choose a path which scares you", was advice from my brother which I taken. Here I come.
Like so many hot London tables at the moment The Riding House Cafe doesn't humour a booking for less than six. So like cats being drawn to milk, we upped our table to the required number and secured a slot at the West End's latest addition.
The vibe was light and strangely familiar (I discovered later these were the same brains that developed Village East) and we settled into Sauvignon & salty buttered bread with ease. The menu was flexible with a generous range of prices. But our table chose to do something which was a first for me; order the entire savoury menu of small plates, some twenty five dishes!
'Done', we all thought. Surely that amount of food will submerge pangs until the following lunchtime? How wrong six girls - admittedly who eat allot of grub - can be. The portions were suitable for a baby pigeons and even the waiter seemed a little awkward as the plates were processed out. Still, the minute bites were delicious and a sexy ingredient combinations that deserved applause. Look out for goat's cheese with honey & figs. And salt cod fritters, all three of them. And moorish lamb cutlets won the old star in the meat department.
Pudding was the star moment for me. The lesson was learnt and six wopping great desserts arrived to the waiting flock. This time rhubarb and raspberry fool took gold.
In summary. I'll be back but I'll order full size, regular, full fat. Bring it on.
This was the destination for dinner on Friday night. A empty railway arch transformed into a unique eating destination. The food was good. We ate seafood paella, crusty pork belly, cheese (being unable to remember the name suggests that I had a glass of wine too many) and home made shortbread & plump strawberries. And lashings of wine. Many lashings. And bio dynamic bubbles. 'Heaven' as my friend Oenone would say.
Here, honored by glossed paper, are my beautiful friends Tori & Oli. Last summer they created the country wedding of the year complete with hay bale pews, hand made felt hearts and one enormous chocolate truffle cake. Brides magazine shows you how to steal the ideas and covet the dress.
Yes, I admit, I was responsible for the cake. "Chocolate?" I squealed, "Are you sure?". My very first wedding cake and the brief was mid summer, moist chocolate and truffles. Its a long story but lets just say that the photo above was taken during an opportune moment roughly forty five minutes before the top tier flopped onto the floor.
I lived and learnt.