Thursday 7 June 2012

Pop Up Friday

The Friday feeling is near impossible to suppress at the best of times, let alone pre a mammoth 4 day weekend. And so, as home-time struck last Friday for our Queen's Jubilee, me and my work pals were nearly tripping over ourselves in our haste to leave the office.




First stop was The Fourth Wall's pop-up bar in Bedford Square. A little underwhelmed by my last visit, the leafy square setting made for a much better venue and we quickly sunk a Re-Bourne, hugely restorative in it's gin and elder flower zing - yum.




It was a one-cocktail-wonder, however, as we had tickets booked for the 7.20pm seating at the much-talked about God Save the ClamFor those that aren't spoilt, tickets were steep at £40 for 3 courses. So it was with high hopes and a hearty hunger that we arrived at what looked little more than an office block just off Hackney's Richmond Road.




Four flights up, we were greeted with mugs of punch, laced with José Cuervo's Tradicional Tequila (double yum), and  a nicely decked out space with bunting and beach huts perking up the grey London sky.




Sitting down at a long gingham clad table, our starters were served. The dish was unsurprisingly meaty, the main event,  Pitt Cue Co's links, served with a deliciously salty anchovy salad cream and paprika spiced croutons. Round 2 of the Tradicional magic only serving to whet our appetites further.




And so onto clam-time good and proper and Rock Lobsta's take on the bake. Our table was presented with a collection of coloured kids' beach buckets filled to the brim with steaming shellfish, samphire and seaweed; the seafood impressive in it's variety. We got stuck in.




If I'm honest, it was quite a lot of hard work, the devilled crayfish offering up little meat for your painstaking peeling and the crab claw smashing giving somewhat hit or miss results. Having said that, there were some delicious morsels that made the battle worth it and the accompanying potatoes in smoke dripping, BBQ leeks and charcoaled corn on the cob were dangerously good.




Fingers licked and shells cleared it was time for pudding, and despite the now glacial temperatures there was no way I was missing out on an ice-cream sundae called the Fat Elvis. Sweet mama was it go-o-o-od. With a peanut butter ice-cream base, sprinkled bacon pieces and a maple-syrup drizzle - whoever Glyn is, he's a bloody genius and I only hope to visit his Screwball Sundae Bar again. Fat Elvis could very soon result in Fat Rox.


The Fat Elvis - So wrong, but SO right


Sadly the arrival of the rain forced us down from the roof top and into a nearby pub. A shame, because the DJ's were just warming up and we were starting to get a taste for that tequila... I only hope that our friends at Pitt Cue Coand  Rock Lobsta  hold another; with a few small tweaks and a little more sunshine they'll have nailed it.

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