Good start in that, on the way to the station, I found a neatly folded five pound note in a shallow puddle by the side of the road. A note which had sufficiently dried by the time we got to the theatre - even old style fivers are pretty resilient objects - to pay for the programme from a programme seller with a very warm personality, a warmth which she was willing and able to share with all comers. Some mature ladies have this knack, rare in young women. Furthermore, a programme which turned out to be unusually informative.
But back at the station, the train we were heading for was cancelled so we tried the fast train to Victoria (Southern Trains) option, a train which did its usual fast train to Victoria trick of idling most of the way there, so not being very fast at all, and, changing at Clapham Junction, we may well have caught the train we could have waited for at Epsom.
Out at Waterloo, to notice the once grand post office illustrated, at the corner of Stamford Street (once home to both a records outpost of the Foreign Office and a heritage outpost of Sainsbury's), a post office which I have not noticed for a while. Had I ever used it? Now firmly shut and presumably mostly subsumed into the next door King's College.
Into a full Lyttleton Theatre to see the barn. A play which turned out to be a triumph of the stage designers' art, but rather thin on content otherwise, which may well have been why it was shown in under two hours without an interval. I thought that the mistress - Mona Sanders played by Elizabeth Debicki - had been miscast, with my not being able to believe that anyone would get themselves into a pickle over her. Far too tall and thin for me; suspension of disbelief failed. OK rather than good, none of the good, solid content which we had had at the Rose a few days before, noticed at reference 2. More like the canary noticed at reference 3, also at the Rose. But I should say in the play's defense, that BH was much more taken with it than I was.
Out to take tea and cake - described as a prune and almond tart but actually a vehicle for golden syrup - at the coffee shop at the corner of the theatre - and then onto ASK at Epsom, to fine dine in what used to be a National Westminster Bank and then the 'The Old Bank' public house, a house where, years ago. we used to take apéritifs before moving onto eating elsewhere. Where, also, the music was gradually turned up so as to drive out older people such as ourselves, so that the evening proper could get started.
My main course was a confection of meat ball, pasta and sauce, a basically good recipe, a confection which had good taste and texture, but which had been ruined by liberal addition of chilli powder. Not helped by it being a ready meal which had been rather badly microwaved, a process which made the pasta at the top of the pile very chewy indeed. Checking now at the ASK site, I find it described as 'Rigatoni pasta with beef meatballs, beef and pork ragu, fresh chillies, roasted red peppers and caramelised onions; topped with mozzarella and Grana Padano cheeses'. Lesson: read the description more carefully and avoid anything which volunteers information about chillies.
But a jolly meal for all that. The place was busy early Saturday evening and was turning plenty of people away. We only got in because we were two who could be stuck in a corner rather than four or more. So the Prezzo which is cranking up nearby should do well. And we did well with them at Ely. See reference 1.
PS: my copy of the original book 'La Main' has now turned up and I am stuck in. Page 38 of 191. As I expected, rather more to this short book than got through to the play. While BH is trying her luck with Assouline's biography of Simenon. I shall report further in due course.
Reference 1: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2015/12/eline-epicures.html.
Reference 2: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/11/inspector-slack.html.
Reference 3: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/09/good-canary.html.
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