Somewhere behind this door, down the stairs and round the corner. A supreme case of Bohemianism in action. The latest incarnation of the Disappearing Dining Club. A delightful dinner party in a slightly dingy basement; a one night love affair with truffles. Well they have just come into season don’t you know.
The candles twinkled, the conversationalist sparkled and the wine was free flowing as we tucked into a series of truffle-infused treats down in the basement, including green pea veloute and seafood ceviche and the inevitable pork belly.
Then, for cheese and desert I lifted the mood with a little light lounge and jazz before turning on the slomodisco, edging the bpms up to deep house by the time thoughts were turning to a spangly night out on the town.
Outside the out-of-towners tumbled around Shoreditch, searching for clues to the cool the attracted them to the area long after it had jumped on it’s fluoro fixed-wheel and headed for Hackney marshes.
Inside all was smashing, a little pink perhaps, but new friends, fine food, great music (naturally) made an excellent recipe for Saturday night delight.