Yesterday, I was at the uber-buzzy Caprice for lunch with an urbane diarist from one of our national dailies and a famous spin-doctor who always makes me laugh. He's a sometime food-writer and this is his favourite restaurant. Easy to understand why. The monochromed interior is pleasingly sleek and the walls are hung with stunning black and white portraits. Images include a young, grinning Mick Jagger and a laconic Michael Caine (with fag dangling from lips) and reminded me what a genius portraitist David Bailey is.
There was plenty of food for thought in the room - and lots to inspire any kind of writer. The scent of money, the whiff of power and no-expense-spared dressing. Thick clusters of diamonds dripping from the bony fingers of ladies-who-lunch defined perfectly the term "knuckle-duster".
It was impossible not to star-spot. Viscount Linley and his father, Lord Snowdon were sitting on the next table (wait until I tell my Auntie Eileen!). In 1960, Snowdon married the Queen's sister, Princess Margaret, who made a STUNNING BRIDE
After squid tempora, I ate sea-bass (wrapped in a banana leaf) and then slivered golden mango with lemon sorbet. Delicious. And in the evening saw a disturbingly brilliant film called UN PROPHETE. I thought that my French was getting worse instead of better - until I realised they were speaking Corsican!
Meals can be memorable for all kinds of reasons - hot chips eaten with icy fingers on a rain-lashed pier can taste ambrosial.
Eaten any memorable meals recently?