venta

Sometimes, of a evening, ChrisC and I leave work at similar times and walk towards each other with the intention of meeting up for a beverage. The obvious way to do this is down Oxford Street, but that's so crowded it's easy to miss each other (not to mention the acrimonious "but why would you even be on the north side?" argument). Accordingly we've evolved a wiggly route through Soho.

We usually bump into each other not far from what Google maps calls Denmark Street and everyone else calls Tin Pan Alley. Around there is a restaurant called Flat Iron, which we'd had recommended, but which has always has a waiting time of over two hours when we've enquired. But early on Monday, we walked in and found empty tables.

( Flat Iron )

Unrelatedly, courtesy of this morning's 6music trailer for a programme about Kevin Rowland, I have the opening riff from Jackie Wilson Said firmly wedged in my brain[*]. What's more annoying is that I can't actually remember how the rest of the song goes.

[*] Now you do too? Don't mention it. All part of the service.