Disappearing Dining Club: NYE

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When I read about the Disappearing Dining Club (DDC) in Event Magazine, I had high hopes for the idea, bringing high quality dining to the masses, combined with great atmosphere, unusual venues and the possibility to meet like minded people.

As I was wading through a seemingly endless catalogue of options for a gastronmically focused New Year’s Eve at the time, I was excited to learn that I could savour a sweetbread, truffle and beef filled menu courtesy of  the DDC for a mere £80 and experience for myself whether the big idea in theory could perform in actuality.

In the build up to NYE, the five course menu, which began with canapés and a Grey Goose cocktail and finished with cheese, was encouraging. After queuing at the entrance of typically Shoreditch venue, Factory 7 and eventually finding a space for the three of us to sit at one of the two runway length banqueting tables, I turned to my neighbour, a dapper gentleman in hat and waistcoat and introduced myself. My new friend remarked on his difficulty in finding room for his party and revealed that a further 50 dining tickets had been released the previous week, upping the total number of diners to over 220.

It was going to be very impressive if the fine dining I envisaged could be achieved for so many.

Granted, the format of the night had to accommodate the compulsory drinking and dancing befitting the celebration of the onset of a new calendar year, however the evening’s events resembled much less the ‘dining club’ to which it owed its name, rather a disco in a warehouse.

I am unable to comment on the canapés which, had I had the opportunity to taste any, would I’m sure have been delicious. The sweetbread, lobster and truffle starter was very enjoyable and as it was a ballotine, there were no temperature issues between plating up and delivery to the table.

The same cannot be said of the main course. The side of broccoli was apparently designed to be served cold, so it sat modestly between my friends and I until, around an hour later and by far the last on our table, we were offered a slice of lukewarm Beef Wellington. The potatoes were lost somewhere in translation.

It was at this point that the waiting list to have words with the Manager became quite long. A queue matched only in length by the line for the loos, as the ladies was experiencing a malfunction and the two cubicles in the gents had to suffer stoically the onslaught of attention from what was, by now, not just our 220 odd diners but those who held 9pm drinks and canapé tickets too.

A crème caramel came and went, 11pm arrived and the dance floor was already filled with keen midnight attendants, so the selection of cheeses had to be abandoned in favour of a bottle of bubbly and relocation to a good spot in anticipation of the 2012 countdown.

Reading this back to myself, it is hard to miss the slightly negative undertone, which is regrettable as the DDC is an enterprise and an idea that we at AatI applaud. As the Bible tells us though, the truth shall set us free, so I can only report that the theory and the reality in this instance were far apart.

I await eagerly to be shown that this is not the final word and that the DDC shall rise again like the Phoenix from the flames to claim the crown of London’s unusual fine dining.

Love Food Give Food

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Something that captured my interest recently is the Love Food Give Food campaign. To raise awareness and money for Action Against Hunger, which works to save the lives of malnourished children by providing communities with access to safe water and sustainable solutions to hunger, Love Food Give Food appeals to those who love food and encourages them to give food to those they love.

The big idea is that food enthusiasts sign up to host a dinner party for however many people and whosoever they wish. As long as each guest brings along a donation for Action Against Hunger, money is raised for the charity and a good time is had by all.

I tried this idea one Saturday last year, but I wanted to give a little extra and create as much bang for Action Against Hunger’s buck as I could. So I contacted a few local businesses and old friends who agreed to give me a hand.

True Deli, an innovative and bespoke London based catering and events company, were the first to offer their assistance and with a generous commitment from Co-Founder Henry O’Grady, the Love Food Give Food dinner party was able to double in capacity to a total of 12 confirmed guests. This carried with it inherent drawbacks, as a kitchen table capable of seating 6 was just not going to cut it in the face of this augmented food extravaganza. Furniture Hire UK then stepped into the breach and promised to lend a 6ft round table and 10 banqueting chairs for the event. To add a real sense of occasion moreover, Chase Distillery, award winning vodka and gin producers from Herefordshire, sent over a bottle of their finest Williams Gin for pre dinner G ‘n’ Ts in the drawing room.

After a fine feast of Chicken Liver Parfait (with Onion Confit), Goats Cheese Mousse with Confit Cherry Tomato and Smoked Mackerel Pate (all couriered that morning from True Deli’s kitchen in South Kensington), followed by my own homemade Fragrant Chicken with steamed Basmati rice and green salad, then True Deli chocolate brownies for dessert, guests received a slip of paper posing as ‘the bill’. This was merely an opportunity to use Gift Aid and to record the details of who was donating and exactly how much.

I’m thrilled to report that we raised a grand total of £280 for Action Against Hunger. Special thanks again to True Deli, Furniture Hire UK and Chase Distillery for their kindness and generosity.

Stella Artois & Punchdrunk: Black Diamond

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What follows is an explanation of a wonderful idea, in concept and execution, which I was lucky enough to experience recently.

My cousin’s husband works for Unit 9, which built the website for Stella Artois’ Black Diamond, the result of a partnership with Punchdrunk, the immersive theatre company, to celebrate and promote Stella Black. I was one of only a few thousand invitees and attended the 8:10pm performance with my cousin.

Not having heard of Punchdrunk before, all we knew upon arrival was that there was going to be some sort of ‘street theatre’. The ticket told us to meet at the underground public phones at Old Street tube station. Having met the stage manager and confirmed that we were ready to start, we noticed that it was only the 2 of us there, i.e. we were the entire audience.

At that moment, one of the phones started to ring. My cousin and I looked around us, waiting for the production to start, until the stage manager finally said, “I think that’s for you.” My cousin picked up the receiver and a man on the end of the line told her to look in the change compartment of the phone for further instructions. There was a note, which read ‘leave by exit 3 and keep walking down Old Street’.

We did as we were instructed and suddenly, out of nowhere, 2 guys appeared to kidnap us. One grabbed my cousin and the other yanked me in the opposite direction. I was told to hurry and not to make a scene. He took me to an abandoned garage and made me go inside before pushing me up against the wall, urgently wanting to “make the deal” – then he showed me the black box (purportedly containing the Black Diamond).

Adrenalin pumping sufficiently to inspire me to react in what must have been the ‘right way’ or in a manner that just about followed their beautifully thought out role play, I managed to fend off the thrilling advances of my ad lib-ing kidnapper and convince him that I didn’t have any money to make any sort of deal. Eventually he disappeared and I was left alone. Then a voice from the only car parked in the garage, which I had barely had time to notice let alone imagine that it was occupied, told me to get into the back.

I found myself kidnapped for a second time that evening. The engine of the black 1920s style saloon purred to life and left the garage with me inside it, having no idea where I was going next. The driver told me that there was a file on the back shelf and that I should study it carefully. It contained details on a woman named Lola Coeur, a singer.

We came to a halt suddenly and the chauffeur warned me that was going to lean into the back to tell me something very important, but that he musn’t be seen. I was instructed to put my head between my legs and to close my eyes. Like a well behaved captive, I obliged, allowing my captor to whisper into my ear anonymously, issuing my evening’s challenge and outlining the critical role I was to play in the next part of the story.

I was dropped at the side of the road by a bar. There was an attendant there to meet me who lead me past a room full of oblivious Shoreditch drinkers upstairs to a back room, where I was instructed to wait for Lola. I managed to execute my secret task in time before Lola’s arrival, whereupon I helped her to change for her imminent performance and listened to her revelations of acquiring the coveted Black Diamond…

She showed me the black box before going out on stage to her waiting audience and I was left alone to watch the performance from a small hole in the dressing room wall (not knowing at the time that my cousin was viewing the show from a table at the back of the bar with a gentleman and playing her own part in the story of the Black Diamond).

When Lola returned she was crying. She thrust a note into my hand from someone named Joseph telling her to forget him. Unconsoleable, her attendant yelled at me to get out, that he wanted no part in what I’d done and to take the car that was waiting for me outside.

I was reunited with my cousin in the car and we set off again with our chauffeur. The success in executing my task had provided us with the details of where to go next and once we got there, we were told to retrieve something from a house, which turned out to be Lola’s and which was plunged in darkness. Armed with the world’s tiniest torches, we hurried down to business as it was clear that Lola was only in the next room and would not take kindly to finding intruders on her property. At length, we found what we were looking for and just in the nick of time, before Lola burst into the room to find us running out of the back door onto the street.

A new guide led us swiftly to meet Jacques, the rightful owner of the Black Diamond and  from whom it had been stolen. He took us to the site of a café. Through the window we could see a beautiful woman working inside. Handing me a black balloon and a box of matches, he pleaded with me to go inside, order something to drink and light the candles on the tables. Once the woman left to fetch my drink, Jacques entered and placed the black box we had taken from Lola’s house onto the table in the centre of the room, before slipping away behind the counter to watch the beautiful woman return and with a glorious smile notice the conspicuous velvet case containing the Black Diamond.

Our part in the story was over. We had succeeded in uniting the Black Diamond with its intended recipient – Jacques was able to propose to his love with the most coveted of stones.

The characters were exquisitely fleshed out for so short a duration of involvement with the audience/participants and with so few people involved in the experience, it is very easy to lose oneself in the plot, making this a thoroughly enjoyable and not a bit cringe-worthy way to spend an hour. Watch out for Punchdrunk’s next collaboration and I implore you to do whatever you can to take part.