An evening with Tcha and a bunch of House Detectives

OK enough of this domestic stuff already.

Last night, March 28^th, to the Four Sisters in Islington

with another couple for cocktails. I get there at 5.50pm to nab a table and some seats, but all seating seems to be reserved. See a table saying "Reserved for Desiree from 7.00pm". We’ll be gone by then so we make ourselves at home. Whisky sour for me. Excellent: maraschino cherry, egg white, the works. Second round, and then it’s 6.50. Every time the door opens we look expectantly for Desiree and her party, but to no avail. 7.00 and we become concerned. Has she met with an unfortunate accident? Is she (and party) locked in a toilet?

Anyway, we have to go, so off to the Union Chapel (30 yards away)

To see these guys

The dude in the hat is Tcha Limberger, and the other guys look like six house detectives from the Grand Budapest Hotel, but are in fact the Budapest Gypsy Orchestra.

Now, I knew nothing about the band, but they were sensational, despite the fact that they seemed to play the same piece over and over again for about 2 hours. They would start out achingly slowly, build to a melodramatic crescendo, and in the final frantic 20 seconds, sound like they had all fallen down the stairs en masse, with their instruments. Anyway, great fun. Word of advice guys: ease up on the dumplings.

Then to The Canonbury Kitchen

For a late supper. I had pasta with venison ragout, which was excellent, and they very kindly accommodated my morbid and irrational fear of wide pasta (anything wider than 8mm I refuse to countenance) by making it with linguine.

That, to me, is the perfect evening out. You can keep your manure encrusted country pubs thank you very much.

On the way back to the tube station, we pass The Four Sisters again, and I sneak a peek through the window to see if Desiree ever turned up. There are five morose looking beardies at her table, so she either never showed, or they're sitting on her.