A Social View – Tredwells and Matt Goss – a win double!
It’s certainly not every day that I write a review whilst on board a cruise ship. I’m on holiday. First proper break in two years so it’s long overdue. GB is on the sunbed next to me reading the excellent Girl on a train by Paula Hawkins. I’m three quarters of the way through the equally absorbing Hotel Alpha written by Mark Watson. The weather it’s fair to say is warmer than an otter in a sheepskin jacket, ( although I must confess I’m still very much un – tanned as opposed to suntanned.
Let’s rekindle back to the 25th January. I’ve never spent a full on weekend in London. When something is so close you tend to take it for granted. I’m as guilty of that as the next person. It’s a Sunday, nothing opens until 11am. After breakfast at the EDITION, which might I add was exquisite we decided to go for a stroll around London TAAAAAARRRRRNNN. It was a cold but beautifully sunny day.
We made our way through the centre of town, coffees in hand up to Horseguards Parade via Leicester Square and The Strand. There was a re-enactment of the English civil war going on. I’d love to say it was fascinating, but although they all looked the part there wasn’t much happening. I’ve seen more action down my local pub. Along The Mall We went, onwards to Buckingham Palace and Hyde Park Corner. At this point for some reason, mainly due to being naive and stupid I decided to tweet Matt Goss. Okay maybe I’m not so naive..
Why Matt Goss you ask?, that’s a bit random ain’t it Rollo? well if you’re asking you obviously haven’t read my last blog. How very dare you…. ( just kidding, welcome to you all )… Well, in September last year my sister – in – law Aine ( pronounced on – ya ), had mentioned that her lesser half had purchased tickets for her, to go see the aforementioned former Bros, and now solo singer at London Palladium. Wifey was a HUGE Brosette. She was hardcore. The Gibson Blackwatch shoes from Shelleys. She had the dungarees, the leather jacket and at one stage had ‘BROS’ shaved into the back of her hair. Thankfully I met her afterwards!
As we romantically dove tailed down Through Green Park my phone pinged. Or should that be dinged? Is there a difference between a ping and a ding? It definitely wasn’t a ring, but here’s the thing, I’ve run out of words that fit in. … So anyway, I have a butchers at the dog ( that’s my dog n bone, we didn’t suddenly swipe a shih-tzu from someone to add to the story), and Matt Goss is following me. Or maybe he hit the wrong button!.. Scrolling along I notice that someone else I follow on Twitter is due to see Matt Goss that evening.
Glynn Purnell is not just a brilliant chef but an extremely funny guy. His restaurant, coincidentally called Purnells is 100% on my list of places myself and GB are heading for ASAP. More importantly though he was heading to the palladium for Mister Goss’s performance.
Quick joke: what do you call a zoo with just a very small dog in it? A Shih-tzu!
Being the nugget that I am I tweeted Mr. Purnell, and asked if, highly unlikely that it was, he bumped into my wife, that he would give her a kiss and wish her a happy anniversary. He replied that of course if she spotted him to say hello. Well what were the chances EH!.. Before the evenings entertainment kicked off however we had lunch booked with the in – laws. We made our way back up towards Oxford Circus.
My brother – in – law Burky knows every nook and cranny of the west end. He gets to a bar in 5 minutes when it would take me 20 minutes to just remember the name. Having met up, the first pub we ventured to was The French House. I can’t really explain the reasoning for what was going on outside but a group of 6-8 chaps stood outside dressed in Victorian style clothes. They were filming something or other and obviously having a laugh doing so. A rather tall fellow,in a top hat, dressed up like a member of Madness would go outside now and again, speak two or three lines and then they would all break out into a ‘Nutty Boys’ style dance. Alcohol and comedy, a win double.
After two drinks we hoisted up the anchors ( not a metaphor ), and latched on to the Burky trail towards Seven Dials for lunch at Tredwells. I knew it was part of The Marcus Wareing group of restaurants but I wasn’t sure what to expect. It could have been a gastropub for all I knew. Of course it shouldn’t have been but we have all had lunches or dinners we have been disappointed with. When I first started getting into fine dining and appreciating what actually goes into becoming a top chef, before the days of multi – channeled TV food programmes Marcus Wareing was one of the few names that stood out. The name Marcus Wareing goes back, way back, and I’m not saying Mr. Wareing is old just that he has been at the top of his game as long as I can remember, and my memory isn’t that bad. The guy is a legend. The majority of chefs whose restaurants I choose to eat at now would probably have Mr. Wareing as an idol.
I thought it would be bigger!.. Not my wife’s thoughts on her Christmas present this year ( but I was cunning ), my first impressions of Tredwells as we approached the restaurant. Of course at that time I had no idea there was a whole floor downstairs as well. Our quartet entered the building and within three steps we were approached by a very friendly looking front of house chap. Seated and menus supplied we were soon discussing what choice of cocktails would prevail in the battle of cocktailiers ( my new word )…
One of us chose to stay with water.. She wanted to stay fresh for Mr. Goss. The remaining three of us went with the following:
Aine : Down The Apples and Pears. Vodka, apple, pear, elderflower, thyme.
Burky : Penny Farthing. Olorosso sherry, goji berry, blackberry.
Moi : New Fashioned. Rye Whisky, marmalade, bitters.
All three of us that went down alcohol way reported most happily that the cocktails were of the highest order.
Only two of us went for starters. The numbers were dwindling. It’s early doors but I have to say the chicken wings were ‘top of the morning’. Perfectly seasoned, cooked A1. A tip to the top way to start a meal. My sis in law went for a Chicken with Satay Sauce type starter. It wasn’t her favourite starting plate ever but between the four of us we polished off the food presented to us. We were happy little beavers at this point. Little did we know of what was about to come.
I’m not knocking him in any way at all but Burky isn’t big on paying for high dining Fare. His tastebuds aren’t great, and I can sympathise. Until I met her indoors I was a truly fussy eater. I wouldn’t try diddly. Slowly but surely she has turned my palate from miserable to a palate du jour. I still can’t make out the difference between Coriander and cumin but I am getting better. So I was a little unsure of where to book for this lunch. Cordon Bleu! Am I glad that I booked Tredwells.
Both parties ordered the highly rated roast dinner. Myself and GB going for the poultry option, or Chicken if you ain’t down with the kids. Burky and Aine went for the Beef roast for 2. I’d seen the odd picture and read reviews on Twitter but honestly nothing could prepare us for what was put in front of us. For the record this is definitely a picture moment, alas I have none. I’ve no quibble, ( it’s like a nibble but in an orderly Q ), whatsoever in saying this is THE BEST roast dinner you will get in London. The Chicken was just extraordinary. Jam packed full of flavour. I was worried that being a ‘one pot’ roast, the perties ( what GB’s Irish rellies call potatoes ), would be soggy. No chance. Deep in the heart of the chook stood magnificent spuds. Soft and fluffy on the inside, firm and crispy on the outside. Like a leather sofa but without the leathery taste.
The Beef pot looked equally appetising. Just pink enough to say eat me come on you know you want too…but not so red as to say I’m putting you at risk. GB’s sister isn’t easily pleased, she’s plucky, not difficult, but she is a firm believer in getting what you pay for. When she came out with , and I quote ” that is the best roast dinner ever ” and even more shockingly Burky agrees you know that you have put a pound in the slots and 7-7-7 has just come in. By a country mile the best roast dinner I’ve ever had!.. It must have been good. We are taking my mum to Tredwells for her 70th and my mum is a ham egg n chips girly. I have total confidence in the Tredwells Trademark Roast though. ( TTR )
Rather than making a song called **Baby Come Back**, I swear if Pato Banton had just promised to take the love of his life to Tredwells for a roast dinner, I bet she’d have been there quicker than a raccoon chasing an acorn. There was no chat during the eating of this main course, no banter. Just huge grins and smiles. It’s only January but I’ve already got two contenders for a best main of the year. Think I might have to split it to a sat/sun category.
I wouldn’t say the desserts were bad, they were actually very nice, I mean a minimum 8 out of 10. The trouble is they had so much to live up too after that. There was a cheeseboard shared by the two sisters and I think I had the Warm Ginger Cake, but I could be wrong as honeycomb rings a distant door bell. Let’s get to the heart of the matter. Courses 1 & 3 could have been hand delivered by Goldenballs himself naked, swinging free handbags round like a hula hoop and it still would have rated below the roast dinner. Okay, maybe I’m under rating the power of Becks but you get my drift.
Finishing up and paying a very reasonable bill we had a slow stroll down to the London Palladium. The plan was for me and Burky to shovel off one way and for the girls to hang around until the doors opened. It was jam packed so the four of us had a little drinkipoos in a bar in and around Carnaby Street. Wifey was a looking a little glassy eyed bless her. At around 18.30 we split up. The two men partaking in sampling various public houses, leaving our spouses to enjoy their evening.
Imagine my surprise when less than 30 minutes later I had a text message from GB.
“I’ve just met GLYNN PURNELL, he’s lovely”… A bit too embarrassed to provide details of who she was, Mr. Purnell was polite enough to have a brief conversation before disappearing in to see the star of the show, Matt Goss. I will hold my hands up to the point where having never really been a Bros fan I just didn’t consider trying to get a ticket. By the sound of it I couldn’t have got one anyway!
Now I can only speak from a third party sense having not witnessed the show myself. I caught Matt Goss doing a spin on Saturday Kitchen the day before the show. Now a huge star in the US, Mr.Goss has a regular stint playing to thousands each night at a Las Vegas hotel. In his own right, in his own way Matt Goss had made it ( twice ). He came across as a very humble and caring bloke. I sort of wish now that I had managed to swing a ticket. He was also doing an extra show , which literally had been arranged at the drop of a hat at the Dorchester on the Monday for a charity close to his heart. A top bloke in every sense.
Arriving back at the pub where we were waiting the ladies went through a thorough and detailed explanation of the show. Matt Goss has grown up. His voice was magic. His swing style was amazing, his voice suiting a mellow big band style tempo and of course he looked… Well… Like our Matt!.. GB may have been dribbling at this point. Mr. Goss sung old songs, new songs, and the odd blues songs… It was like a national treasure had returned. Many people came, and very few, if any left disappointed. I’m slightly surprised we didn’t end up making another trip to his old house in South London for nostalgia’s sake.
That was it. The group split at Oxford Circus, Burky and spouse heading back towards East London while Wifey and I headed back to our hotel for closing drinks. I had to confess to feeling slightly envious. GB had met Glynn Purnell ( the Yummie Brummie ), and had seen one of her biggest idols in Matt Goss. Actually I think i was just overjoyed. Glynn was a nice bloke and Mr. Goss had been every bit the superstar she was hoping. My missus had a brilliant weekend, and so did I.. Plus I’d had the best roast ever!
If you have no idea who Pato Banton is then place the following in between the ** —– ** back up there ^^
Song too old? Replace with “Need you Now” Lady Antebellum
Song too new? Replace with “If you Leave Me Now” Chicago
Hope you enjoyed Tredwells and Matt Goss. As always I loved writing it.. And that’s the point, it’s good for the soul EH!