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Qube 67 Wood Street It had to happen. Finally and rightly pensioned off from pop culture, I find myself telling you about my lunch. I am Michael Winner. The alien concept of sobriety alleviated by the house red, I fixed an eye on the specials board and chose seared salmon and asparagus in butter sauce. In most restaurants this would require a freshly cashed giro, or at least a rich yet ugly boyfriend, but Qube is a bit like the Ladytron line-up in this way - no dish is over five pounds. My companion- who does not eat her friends-
arched a disapproving eyebrow towards the vegetarian selection,
which seemed to be summed up in the words "eat hallumi or
diet". My salmon arrived succulently pink, but well seared enough to stick two fins up to the ridiculous fashion of serving animals still swimming/grazing. The butter sauce was the silkiest experience I've had since March 1997. It was also reassuring to see the food freshly grilled before our eyes, knowing that nothing unspeakable was going on in the kitchen. Pudding offered a vast array of puddingy
type things, but we decided to stick to wine, which was good
in a way because it negated a trip to the perspex dream machine
that is the ladies' at Qube. In the name of proffesionalism I
investigated the boys' loos and this was equally exciting...
In fact I think I could fancy that pudding now.... Opening times: breakfast 8-12, Lunch/dinner 12-12 Anna |
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