Buy One Steak and Get a Complementary Stomach Pump

Romantic Meals Make Me So Happy

 Uu uurg. I'm ill. Far iller than can be healthy for me. As I write this I'm currently in bed having come down with a particularly nasty case of the Bubonic Plague. Having the Black Death (or perhaps it's Malaria) is no fun at all. My head feels like it's about to fall out of my arse and my limbs feel like they're being manipulated by some vindictive bastard with a voodoo doll of me.
 
I'm supposed to be going to some restaurant later tonight to help a friend write a review for a newspaper, but to be honest I'm not really looking forward to it. I'm hardly going to be fantastic company this evening unless you're a scientist researching searching for some undiscovered disease to make you famous, and in terms of refinement or especially culinary knowledge I don't really bring much to the table (Get it? Oh fuck off then).

Afterall, what is she going to write?

Cough Once and This Glass is Going Over Your Head

"This baby seal heart stuffed with chicken liver pate was tender and moist and the recommended wine complemented the dish perfectly. My dining partner was enjoying his sirloin steak right up until the moment he vomited it back onto his plate. I chose the dessert of coffee and ice cream, and was about to ask him how his chocolate fudge cake was, but I noticed that by this time he had passed out before having been served it."


So here I am, with either Malaria or the Plague (or maybe it's Gonorrhea) feeling sorry for myself, and the Missus trying to wind me up by saying that it's the worst case of man-flu she's ever seen. Fucking arsehole. Why doesn't she try having this Plague/Malaria/Gonorrhea/Ebola and I can tell her to stop moaning because it's only her time of the month.

Perhaps the restaurant staff will be kind enough to put my meal in a blender and they can feed me intravenously. I've never had pureed steak before, but apparently it's all the rage in Amsterdam. That and prostitutes, but I doubt this restaurant will have hookers on the menu. If it does though, it will receive an immediate 10 out of 10 by me. The next part of this blog will be written after the meal, and hopefully my dose of Plague/Malaria/Gonorrhea/Ebola/Syphilis won't ruin the meal too much.

 ***UPDATE***

Having a Simply Joyous Time

Well I'm back home and still in (relatively) one piece. I didn't vomit once, although I may have passed out a couple of times because there are parts of the night I don't remember. I think I may have made the joke "and for the dessert I'd like a stomach pump please." but I might have imagined it. Although there was a bit of a mix up and they got my order wrong (I ordered the char-grilled Cairnhill Sirloin steak (10oz) and crispy onion rings in a peppercorn sauce, but instead I was presented with an admittedly scrumptious looking burger and chips) the man who took over was fantastic and couldn't do enough to service us. Through the haze of my Plague/Malaria/Gonorrhea/ Ebola/Syphilis/Asbestosis he became more charming by the minute.

My friend who actually knows about food seemed to be loving her crispy saucy duck thing and when the desserts arrived I was already full. She had some ice cream with salted caramel sauce, and I had possibly the most delicious food I've ever had, in the form of an apple and cinnamon crumble with some fancy thick cream stuff. This was an orgasm on a spoon, and the Missus will seriously need to up her game to come close to this little beauty, especially after the "man-flu" comment.

Her Saucy Duck Thingy                      A Strange Looking Steak                 Food of the Gods

For some idiotic reason I decided to get a bus back home as I saw it approaching, and I know it stops a few yards from my home. That was a mistake. Especially when you're so full after a meal that you're waddling like an overdue pregnant woman, and the suspension on the bus seems to have been made out of concrete blocks. I consider it nothing short of a miracle that the old woman sitting in front or me didn't end up wearing my sirloin steak down the back of her coat.

So in short, will I be back? Certainly. Did my dose of Plague/Malaria/Gonorrhea/Ebola/ Syphilis/Asbestosis/Consumption put a dampener on things? Well yes, but it wasn't enough to stop me from having multiple orgasms during the desert. On a related subject, I think I may have been banned from that restaurant forever.