My entire "raison d'etre" in life, is to discover new and exciting restaurants that put a different slant on the whole eating out experience. Some are better than others. I have even heard rumours of some places outside of London that have ceased churning out prawn cocktail and chicken and chips in a basket, but that I find very hard to swallow - but enough of the basket! (Paronnez moi! Tres silly mood!).
Now every once in a while I come across a restaurant that leaves even a leviathan-like intellect (such as mine) struggling for the right words what I should use. (Note to self - check grammar on previous sentence and remove any wrong bits before sending copy to typist). Hence I was recommended to try out the new eatery near the Groucho Club run by celebrity Channel 4 nutritonist expert Dr Gillian MacLiar. You know the lady I mean - see the picture above as a reminder. She is that odd woman on Channel 4 with a strange propensity for other people's bowel movements, a body like Gollum and a face with all the warmth and charm of Josef Mengele.
I phoned Filly but she texted me back saying she was at something called an Anti Natal Class, though quite what she has against areas of South Africa I have no idea. I toyed with getting hold of Belinda again, but she has been acting somewhat strange since the whole visit to Heston's restaurant. She keeps sending me pink t-shirts through the post and CD's by the Communards, with strange cards attached with notes in saying "thought this would be right up your alley." Therefore, abandoning women, I decided to plunge into Dr MacLiar's lair alone!
The first thing that happens on entering the restaurant is that you have to swear on a Bible that you honestly believe that Doctorates and Degrees from the "University of Possum Swamp Springs, Tennessee" are legal and all above board. We are then all weighed and measured to find our body mass index. Anyone over the Government limit is then subjected to a 25 minute dressing down by a hologram of Dr MacLiar. Next we are each assigned a small tupperware box which we have to crap into. Yes, that is what I said, we have to crap into a tupperwear box. This is then taken to the head chef and nutritionists, who sniff it and poke it about a bit, before coming back to each customer in turn and telling us that our "shit stinks". Now, I am no rocket scientist (just a graduate from Cambridge!), but even I know that whatever else it smells of, crap usually stinks horribly. Finally, Dr MacLiar appears in person for us, goes from table to table haranguing guests, calling them names, handing back their poo, and finally delivering their specially created meal which is apparently exactly their dietary needs at this time. Strangely every single bowl seemed to be the same - full of mung beans, whole grain rice, pearl barley, lettuce and tofu. For this we were charged £347.32 a head. What a hoot! Sadly, the evening ended on a sour note when a chap on a table next to mine, after being shouted at for the 6th time by Dr MacLiar, unfortunately made the mistake of muttering something about Dr MacLiar being a fraud, charlatan and a faeces-obsessed quack. The poor man didn't know what hit him. It was Dr MacLiar's very rich and powerful lawyer husband who whacked a writ on the man before he could snap the lid back on his tupperwear shit box. He was kicked out, but not before they had made him settle his bill.
So, a bizarre place to go, but very much as expected if you have seen the grimacing features of Dr MacLiar on Channel 4. I can only hope the food and toilet facilities at the next eatery I visit will be an improvement!
Any suggestions, please mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org and we can maybe have lunch together. But bring your own tupperwear box.