168. Dead Cows, Dead Conversation

9th July 2014, Marco Pierre White Steak & Alehouse, City of London

Off on a first date, and I had to hand it to the guy - he had figured out my idea of a perfect date from a quick chat at a loud and crowded party, which is rather impressive.

Following a bottle of champagne at Catch we were off to Marco Pierre White Steak & Ale House for - you guessed it - steak. My two favourite things in the world along with first date butterflies. This looked promising.

Butterflies or no butterflies, I was most excited about visiting one of the Marco Pierre restaurants, which along with virtually every other somewhat known steak house in the world is an essential to try out in my book.

Sadly, it did not start off well - in spite of the bottle of pre dinner champagne, the first date butterflies were soon accompanied by first date awkward silence. I could practically hear the married couple next to us analyse our date, eavesdropping on our non conversation, concluding that we were clearly not a particularly established couple and taking comfort in the fact that in spite of the separate bedrooms that I'm sure they do not share, at least they were done with all those first dates of doom. And on this rare occasion, I would rather have been on the judging end with the separate bedrooms we'd blame on snoring.

Thankfully, the starter gave me something else to focus on - a truly delicious gravlax which is rare in this country but pleased my Swedish heart. Gravlax is usually hugely disappointing outside of Sweden and sometimes I think they just sprinkle some dill on smoked salmon.

The gravlax was however nothing compared to my delicious steak. Cooked to medium rare perfection, not overly salted and with the greatest béarnaise I've had in the UK. Great béarnaise is also something that is a big deal to us Swedes. In fact, if I could eat one dish and one dish alone for the rest of my life, you can bet it would come with béarnaise.

After the delicious first two courses and some great banter with the waiter as the table was still painfully quiet even after three glasses each of a divine Malbec, they could have served me gruel for dessert and I would still have been more than happy. Instead a close to perfect crème brulee was put in front of me, and it was another great distraction from the non chemistry surrounding our table. 

There may not be a second date, but there will most certainly be a second steak one of these days.