27 April - Fave Author & Good Eaterie

I love Lionel Shriver. You describe the plot of her novels to people and they say 'Why would I want to read that?' (it's depressing or whatever) and my only retort is 'She writes about unpleasant stuff but it's the same as what I think'. I can't go into it as I don't do literary criticism on this blog, but I went to her reading from new novel with fellow fan E. and we loved it. It hasn't got great reviews but I don't care. She was funny on the podium and sharp on her answers to audience. She gets my vote. Current plot is to do with american bloke who saves all his life/sells business in order to retire to Pemba (how topical, Zanzibar, been there done that) and the day he's all set, his wife announces she has terminal cancer. The kind you can't fix. Cue bloke having to get job back at firm he sold in order to get medical insurance and also running down the million he had put aside for change of life. All in order to buy wife a mere 3 extra months' of life. And clearly not good life either, let's call it survival. Call me stone hearted but I told Toph that if case arose, I'd think him selfish for making me ruin my plans for future (which also involve escape to another country) in order to watch him die for a few months longer. And to feel free to act likewise if th one who goes down first is me.

Amazing though how many people out there think this is morally wrong and would do chose the martyr way? Why? They're not even religious so it's not for fear of everlasting hell.

After Ms Shriver, we were treated to impropmptu dinner by E's NYC lover, or rather he was taking her to dinner and extended invite. As we were debating where, we thought of going past Dean St Townhouse where I had tried to book dinner for mid May and found it very booked up. Lo and behold they gave us a table at 9ish and it looked like they had others. Good service, good buzz but I guess I would have enjouyed the place a lot more 20 years ago where I'd have thought I was in the company of some movers and shakers I knew. These lot probably were too but I no longer know any. You know, oh there goes my mate X who produced that film last year and so on. I use the term mate loosely but you know what I mean. As it happened P. had best view of the entrance and the comings and goings but it was all irrelevant to him as he's platform Pete, so called because he works in IT and drinks rum and coke with his dinner rather than wine. Bless. The only man who spent £200 at Roka and that was just on a meal for himself. Yep, that kind of appetite.

So there you have it, if you're in Soho and stuck for some simple/dependable fare, try the Townhouse. They'll have a table despite pretending they're fully booked every night.