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| Leftover
Supper |
Page 1 of 5
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Watch the
video clip
 Simon
Running a restaurant is utterly exhausting. For us, every night at
the Quill and Tassel is like climbing Everest. There's a summit to
be scaled, the summit of culinary excellence. And there are people
to look down on from a great height. People who enter with beards
and children and are instantly asked to leave. People who talk throughout
the meal. They wouldn't talk through a Lloyd Webber musical,
would they? But that is a work of art, of course, whereas my life's
work, to which I've given everything and beyond, is merely a stage
on their journey to the lavatory.
So. Come Sunday night, our one night off, all we want to do is
relax. Minty, in particular, has sweated enough for a horse and
his brothers! So what could be better than a simple supper?
Supper is dinner with its shirt undone. It's relaxed, languid,
louche. It's Sunday-ish. It's Sundayissimo. If 'dinner' is a middle
manager from Leicester sucking up to Japanese clients, 'supper'
is an Italian language student, sunning himself on a June Sunday
evening in Hyde Park, stretched out on one of those picnic rugs,
tossing his floppy mane like a Tuscan Hugh Grant.
A simple supper of leftovers, then. But 'simple' shouldn't be confused
with 'easy'. Any idiot can hum a simple tune like 'Crocodile Rock'.
But it takes a genius to write it. Without naming names, we had
supper with that genius ourselves, last July at the Duke Of Albany's
villa. A lovely man who smiles easily. But not simply!
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