QUO VADIS REDUXING THE REDUX
It's a total biosphere
The farm in the back
The other day I walked the length of TCR (Tottenham Court Road) without once being accosted by a Street Fundraiser. It was also a Saturday afternoon. This happens to me all the time. Chuggers, as they are uncharitably known, people with clipboards, attractive women handing out free samples of probiotic yoghurt – they all seem to ignore me.
Personal hygene problems ? Nope. Miserable old git ? Hm. Along with all the good characteristics I have inherited from my parents (no tittering at the back) I have unfortunately developed my father’s tendency to walk around with a scowl-like countenance despite feeling pretty happy most of the time.
I’m happy when baby-sitting my nephew and niece (Yes, Boromama* we are allowed to eat as much chocolate as we like and watch unlimited cartoons until midnight as a special treat and no, we are not trying to pull the wool over your eyes). I’m happy when I arrive in Madrid and go into my first bar for my first cold Mahou and smell the heady aroma of coffee, spanish ciggies and fried fish. I’m happy sitting reading the Sports Section on a Sunday sipping an ice cold Dry Martini whilst a big hunk of meat roasts slowly in the overn and The Dan is on the stereogram. Lots of things make me happy, it’s just that I don’t always show it.
Today’s post is about Quo Vadis. I know, I know, I’ve already done two posts about the place but this time I had the Steak and it sort of fits in with all the recent bovine-related posts on Dos Hermanos.
This last visit was on a Friday night after another hard week and by way of a small commiseration. Burn This has not been a success so the run has been cut short with the consequent disbanding of the Steppenwolf Company (South Yorkshire Branch).
It was quite late by the time I ordered and they had run out of a few items so instead of a two starter strategy and went for a surf and turf, as separate courses.
I know people like to go on about how they prefer shellfish like Crab blah blah and indeed blah but you just can’t beat a good Lobster. This Scottish example was a big bugger which had been simply grilled then dressed with a rough tomato concasse. I started eating it with a knife and fork but discarded them pretty quickly in favour of my bare hands, some lobster crackers and one of those pick things for retrieving the last morsel of rich white flesh from the shell. The juices from the lobster had amalgamated with those from the tomatoes to make a nice little sauce which I mopped up with the good bread.
Turf was a thick Sirloin Steak. Cooked rare and with the fat still on this was one of the best steaks I’ve had. I knew it was going to be good because I could smell it as it was brought to the table. Chips were fantastic – they’re probably the best you can get in London at the moment (in my very humble opinion). There was also a very fine béarnaise and some peas from Secrett’s which were a revelation. They were large, very redolent of pea (very pea-y if you will) with a creamy taste, even though there was no cream. With a big glass of Rioja I was very happy indeed.
I was so full so I toyed with the idea of un trou normand but decided some sorbets and a glass of recciotto would work as well.
After a double espresso manager Nikki Barltrop kindly took me though to the kitchen to meet Head Chef Jean Philippe Patruno and show me the meat locker where the big hunks of Lincolnshire Beef are hung (they’re all butchered on site too).
So now I’ve got a new thing to make me happy - eating at Quo Vadis. I’m pretty sure I had a smile on my face when I left. At least I hope so.
*Bengali for eldest maternal uncle