Come For the Sangria, Stay For the White Beans
Well, the Orford Road Tapas Bar may be out in the wilds of witch-haunted Essex, but it pours a mean sangria. The secret, we decided some time during the second pitcher, is the Cointreau. They also have a pulpo gallego to kill for; the octopus must marinate or something, because it becomes yielding and succulent -- and the potatoes it rests on soak up all the wondrous octopus juice, paprika, and oil to become wondertatoes. But the real killer app at Walthamstow's finest tapas establishment is the garlicked white beans with Serrano ham. It's humbling how good they were. Only the millennia of self-restraint and social conformity bred into Britons prevented my dinner companions (gbsteve, chilledchimp, and the lovely and talented Graham) from knife-fighting me for the last helping. I heartily endorsed just making it into a fabada and ditching the rest of the menu, although I believe my exhortations may have fallen on deaf ears.
Today, I had a lovely English breakfast with the lovely English yojimbouk, and this afternoon I shall roam the Soane for the first time, accompanied and instructed by the delightful dhampir jholloway. Then off to run my Gothenburg Trail of Cthulhu scenario for the assembled Pelgrane Test Committee, which will cunningly and simultaneously a) fix any problems with the scenario and b) prevent me from actually having enough time to finish writing the thing up. I suspect my Swedish hosts may have to put a keyboard in front of me Thursday night if they want anyone else to be able to run it on Saturday.
Today, I had a lovely English breakfast with the lovely English yojimbouk, and this afternoon I shall roam the Soane for the first time, accompanied and instructed by the delightful dhampir jholloway. Then off to run my Gothenburg Trail of Cthulhu scenario for the assembled Pelgrane Test Committee, which will cunningly and simultaneously a) fix any problems with the scenario and b) prevent me from actually having enough time to finish writing the thing up. I suspect my Swedish hosts may have to put a keyboard in front of me Thursday night if they want anyone else to be able to run it on Saturday.