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 Clam. For 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 Co. and  Rock Lobsta  hold another; with a few small tweaks and a little more sunshine they'll have nailed it.

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The Great Gatsby

A manic day and a mad dash from work is never a great start to an evening. But so Jess and I arrived at Wilton's Music Hall, out of breath and in desperate need of a drink.

Greeted by a gorgeous flapper-clad door girl, we nabbed a quick voddie and were ushered to our seats - a sweet little bench at the back of this ornate music hall (the world's oldest no less). With a sigh of relief we sat back, immediately swept up in the charm and glamour of the scene before us - transported back to the 1920's and into the intriguing plot of F. Scott Fitzgerald's, The Great Gatsby.

The cast of Peter Joucla's production was small: just 3 girls and 4 boys, each actor playing both character and chorus-member. With a simple set, the decadence of Fitzgerald's book was spun through the energy and style of the players themselves. And the audience was palpably enthralled, laughing and cheering with abandon. The lightness of the play was added to by the sweet interjections of song and dance by the 'off-duty' cast members, who donned comical heavy rimmed specs to disguise their characters and become part of the chorus. 

As the lights dimmed for the interval, we were invited to Gatsby's party in the bar where actors milled, interacting with the audience and further feeding our enthusiasm. Delicious bar snacks were served: pork pies with rich chutney, scotch eggs with horse radish mustard and salty popcorn all fitting in perfectly with the neatly spun dream.

The second half of the play saw the end of the whimsical lives of the characters and the downfall of the elusive Gatsby. I actually liked the interesting direction around the death of poor old Myrtle, though this did receive a perhaps misplaced laugh from the majority of the audience. 

The last song drew to a jazz-filled close and a buzzing audience filtered back out into the bar. Clearly a preview, the production could do with a little polishing, the accents somewhat variable and the scene changes stilted. But there was a sweetness to the show that forgave it's imperfections. The atmosphere was magical, the beautiful setting of Wilton's working perfectly to create an intimacy that left us bewitched.

After a snoop around the upstairs rooms of this incredible building, it was back out into the rainy night and back to 2012 with a bump. I fear the run is all but sold out, but if I were you I'd rock up and chance it - worse comes to worst you can get yourself a good old pork pie, a glass of red and just soak up the amazingness of this place.

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Finding the Fourth Wall

Having received this...

... on Thursday, I must admit that I was somewhat gazumped. After a little investigation, it seemed I'd (inadvertently) signed myself up for notification of the weekly location of the The Fourth Wall - London's only 'wandering bar'. But with a clue that had me turning my head left to right, blurring my eyes and googling like a mad woman in the hope of cracking it - it seems that B&H (the team behind other lovely vintage events like the Blitz party and Wyndstock) were keen for only the brightest of drinkers to make it to their pop-up.

With a leetle help on the puzzle solving (this drinker just couldn't cut it), I made a booking and met my friend Semma at Shoreditch High St overground. A hop skip and a jump found us being ushered into nothing more than a warehouse, corrugated roof and all. But as we got further in, a theatre set unfolded - a whole bar constructed within this dilapidated space; there for one weekend only before it'll be packed up and moved on elsewhere, with a whole new clue to solve and discover it.

Like it's sister bar, Bourne & Hollingsworth in Fitzrovia, The Fourth Wall is prohibition themed - the floral wallpaper, tasseled lampshades and cocktails in teacups making you feel like you've stumbled back to war-time and into someone's front room. 

The vibe was nice, mellow and understated. The cocktails strong - The Gatsby a favourite with vodka, promegranate, raspberry and fizz. But I couldn't help but feel a little under-whelmed. Whereas the charm of Bourne & Hollingsworth is it's intimacy and authenticity; the details of the artwork, upholstery and crockery impressive - this just fell a bit short. I loved the intrigue of the clue and the excitement of not knowing what we'd find at the revealed address, but what we found just didn't quite live up to the hype and it kinda felt like a pop-up for pop up's sake.

But no matter, my focus was more on my long lost friend. The rate-per-minute we were talking, we may as well have been down 'Spoons.

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