Thirty Thousand Streets

Saturday, November 05, 2005


On Friday last, upon swiftly exiting work, I headed beer-wards in the company of fellow blogger Gridrunner. Can't remember exactly where but it was just off Oxford Street, and had some interesting stained glass - the image of a pugilist remaining particularly firmly etched in my conciousness. The other thing is it was owned by the brewery that makes that pokey Prinz Beer.. which has the virtue of being cheap and looking German, but tends to make me feel like I've had an ethanol brain-rub the morning after.

After that headed back to Clapham, which was choked with people down for the Bonfire night festivities. We wanted to eat so headed for one of my fave eateries, Bodeans, only to discover it was predictably rammed with the 'fire-folk'. Indeed our request for a table was greeted with the kind of amused negative the American waitress must usually reserve for questions regarding the availability of moon-geese. Whatever. YOUR LOSS.

So went to Bentos round the corner, where, despite it being busy we got a table almost immediately, and they then proceeded to dish up good food in a really uncoordinated fashion. I like Japanese food very much, and was really looking forward to this, so was a bit pissed when I only got main course jut as my friends were finishing theirs. The waiter said it was because they were so busy, but considering my friends were served in about 15 minutes I think everyone would have been happier if they'd just taken an extra ten minutes and syncopated the arrival of everyones food.

Told them we didn't really want to pay the service charge, and with a pen stroke through this, yet nary an apology, the manageress wrote us off as collateral. So anyway, good food. but slightly duff service.

Then went to the Smoke Rooms next door, which used to be the 100 Pub (club?) and which despite changing hands, doesn't actually seem very different at all. The DJ was playing the kind of records for which they could practically invent a new genre: Forgettable house. Beer was nice and expensive though, which reassured me I was experiencing a 'premium' quality evening.

Then I went home.

1 comment:

gridrunner said...

The pub: The Champion (corner of Wells Street and Eastcastle Street).

The brewery: Samuel Smith
No, not very German sounding. Therein might be a clue to your ails. Or should I say Their ales were route of your ails (arf arf).