Balthazar, Lanesborough Hotel, Comedy Store and Case Becci but mostly working

November 18, 2013

Friday night and Balthazar Covent Garden felt the perfect place to be. A younger sister to its famous NY counterpart, this brasserie has wonderfully recreated retro Paris. The lighting is perfect, the mirrors  huge and speckled, the waiting staff attentive. You know it is old school as they are in white shirts and aprons not the modern black ones. And with that slightly superior French waiter disdain. But in an OK way in that when we ordered our nth bottle of wine he pursed his lips and said “Yes, get pissed why not? It is Saturday tomorrow.” The ambiance and company were perfect and the Chablis didn’t touch the sides. The food on the other hand was a disappointment. Surprisingly bland and ordinary.

And so on to the Library in the Lanesborough where one of our party immediately crashed out (hard week at work of course, nothing to do with the Chablis) and we relaxed in gentleman’s club-like surroundings and the rum flowed. Unfortunately completely overindulged on the three tier presentation of nuts, mini pretzels and olives and felt sick in the cab on the way home. But held it together.

Saturday was the journey from hell to get to the Comedy store in Leicester Square – tickets to which we’d been given as a present. Cab to Northfields tube only to find station closed and cab gone. No cabs at nearest taxi rank. Black cab refuses to stop. We walk home as hubby has remembered he forgot the tickets and we try to decide how to travel in. The 15 minute walk home has a frosty atmosphere as I am blamed for suggesting public transport in the first place.

We drive in, park outside the flat and get a cab from there where the compere is just starting. And he is great. Witty Jewish guy we have seeen before and creates a great vibe. The next two comics are OK, but the compere much better. The final two acts are hilarious. Otiz Cannelloni a classic one liner, crap magic brilliant routine. And Phil Nichol a Canadian who veers between loud and violent and fey and camp. With a bit of guitar playing thrown in. An excellent second half.

Then back to the flat and daughter who is living there takes us to a local family Italian. The classic trattoria where we grab a quick bite. I haven’t had Pollo Milanese since I used to go to Milli Pinis off Russell Square as a student. Perfect.


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