| | whining & dining by michael whiner | contact: michael@netribution.co.uk
Week 3 - Insinuendo This week, Michael has chosen to grace Nico Adonis' latest West End venture 'Insinuendo'. Run as always by members of his enormous family, this was the location for one of the greatest political/culinary coups in recent times. When John Prescott hosted a dinner for a number of rail company bigwigs he ordered his usual mountain of beef but when it came to his carbo intake he found the menu a little spring veg for his taste. A small fracas then ensued between Nico's daughter (the manager) and Prescott who insisted on some fries with his hache. Although retired now, Nico was in the kitchen that day and, informed of the situation, he stormed into the restaurant with characteristic ferocity and accosted the clearly petrified Prescott with an enormous King Edward and a hand crafted peeler.
As usual Michael is already in full flow… |  |  "Ah! The robin breast in aspic has arrived! Try it – it’s almost edible. Talking of undercooked birds, I see that Liz Hurley has been hitting the headlines again. It seems that some woman took exception to the fur coat Liz had worn to some celebrity birthday bash and threw a glass of red wine over her. I gather that Ms Hurley wasn’t greatly amused. I’m all for active protest, you know. I once threw a copy of ‘Notting Hill’ at Julia Roberts.
Talking of Julia Roberts, am I the only person on the planet that doesn’t want her to win the Best Actress Oscar? I mean have these people ever seen ‘Mary Reilly’? For the uninitiated, it was a film based on ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ but told from the perspective of the servants who worked in Jekyll’s house. It’s so arse-numbingly bad that it only took around 11 million dollars worldwide. I really cannot stress how awful this film is. The Roberts creature sleepwalks through the entire farrago with a completely vacant expression on her face and adopts what must rank as the worst Irish accent ever committed to celluloid. Then miraculously she plays a single mother who displays more cleavage then you’d find in the average lap dancing bar and suddenly she’s in line for a Best Actress award. And people ask me why I avoid America like the plague! The place is enough to make you vomit as soon as the plane touches the tarmac. I’ll have another bottle of the Chateau Latour and make it snappy. Oh, and can we have a decent year this time? Not the usual vinegar you try and foist on me.
My doctor has told me to cut down on desserts, so just to piss him off I’ll have a Welsh Rarebit, a triple portion of Explorateur and the ice cream. I'm reliably informed that they make it with a 1964 Sandeman port and the double cream is infused with smoke from a Monte Christo number 1. Did I mention that I bumped into Albert Finney earlier in the week? I asked him how he felt after winning the Lifetime Achievement award at BAFTA. He said he was thrilled – he’d been looking for a really good doorstop for ages. Where’s my pudding?!" | | | |
