Croyden. I could have been home and running a bath in Monks Kirby already in that time.Luckily for them (as we'd been stirring up mean comments as we would a risotto), the meal, and the company was an absolute dream as soon as we crossed over their suburban threshold.
We had a dish of steak and creamy white bean sauce, with salady bits. I had probably encouraged Bob to do it quite a bit less than medium rare so I got to finish off Alex's bloody bits. Chewed, but the flavour not gone.
Then just as I was casting my eye round the room for some bones to gnaw on Bob brought out the cider apple jellies! With Rhoddas clotted cream.
OOOOh. That soothed the ulcers in our travel angry mouths right down. Once the jelly was finished we just spooned straight from the cream pot.
Once every drop had been licked from the bowls we retired to their tres elegant sitting room to finish off their Christmas chocolates and recall, 'what it's like for a girl..'
Now that's one situation that really did have blood dripping onto our plates.
p.s the chocolates had David Haddrell's face on them. We ate his colleagues in ascending order of looks. http://www.youtube.com/user/marktakespictures#p/u/10/abmQZQQRgjY
CroydOn
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