No Toto, we're not in NYC anymore.
Whilst in London for a few hours I stumbled upon Keith McNally's outpost of the legendary New York brasserie, Balthazar. I've eaten at the New York one a few times, but alas, I had no time to be a lady who lunched. Still, I couldn't just skip on by empty handed...
I scooped up two croissants from the boulangerie, one for lunch and one for breakfast, I much prefer a crunchy day old croissant to one freshly baked, I'm biting down on its armadillo carapace through to its leaves of buttery parchment right now.
Aspinal's lapis lazuli tiles deserve a wolf whistle, don't you think?
This really was a whistlestop trip, after two hours I
then hopped a plane to this part of the realm, or not ...
Talk like that will curl lips in the south of Ireland.
Mind if I sit this one out? I prefer to keep my bitter bile tucked in its ergonomic pouch. Hands up if you like Black Velvet? Looks like this round is going to cost me a pretty penny.
Normal service will be resumed next week.