14 March 2007

Part two in a long running saga of goodbye. We gathered together the gang for a last hurrah for the painting thieves, and headed off to Macs. As usual the service in Macs was impeccable, though especially given the crowd that we are in, this is only to be expected. I managed to finagle my way into choosing the wine and went for the value Barolo, unquestionably the best wine there that is not a Premier Cru.

I surprised myself by having two fish courses, will squid and lobster but close enough. Both courses had Asian overtones which worked well, the calamari with Thai noodle salad started particularly good. The food was good, service great and wine only slightly overpriced, so why am I always a little disappointed every time I go to Macs? Perhaps it is because nothing changes on the menu, the food itself is not fantastic despite the reputation, and despite the attentativeness of the waiters, they still show their Jamaican roots, by bring out side dishes when you are completing you entrees and the food temperature is variable.

I seem to be feeling less of an outsider with this crowd, and this is purely down to the effort expounded by the Lady of Leisure in dragged me along to the odd soiree. Before long with the wine continuing to flow, the boys had broken out the cigars, moved to one end of the table to discuss politics and other matters of state. I don’t know whether it is overt or subconscious, but so often I look at myself and the crowd and I feel that I am play acting at the great colonial gent. Though I seriously doubt in real colonial times, the after dinner discussions ran to all time favourite punk bands and how odious Margaret Thatcher was.