I went to an exceptionally nice dinner party last week. My old colleague had prepared a true feast (well aware that I’m very high maintenance when it comes to eating) and invited me and miss E over to his cosy Bethnal Green flat.
Spanish chorizo stew, potato dauphinois with mushrooms and baked butternut squash was on the menu. I think I had 3 extra servings, which is practically unheard of.
One of E’s flatmates had been to Westminster Kingsway College for lunch earlier during the week (scouting the next Jamies and Gordons) and picked up some form of orange bread. Slightly stale, the dry situation was saved by toasting thin slices of the loaf and then layering it with spreadable goat’s cheese. This was served as a very nice starter.
Miss E and I were both very impressed with our hosts’ efforts. A bar of dark chocolate ended the night (and add to that some wine too) and I would go so far to say that this should be the official foodie flat of Canrobert street.
I love dinner parties, they can be so much more successful than going out for a meal. This dinner was definitely one of those special nights, where laughs and music probably start to annoy neighbours and you arrive home much later than you intended. In fact, I didn’t get home at all but stayed at Miss E’s and explored the corners of North London. I know, wild right? Next time it’s our turn to return the favour – any ideas would be much appreciated. I’m fearing a night of cinnamon buns won’t impress anyone.
