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raves

Ronnie Scott’s

Somehow, we’ve never been to Ronnie Scott’s. Been upstairs @ Ronnie Scotts to the old Club Latino, which back in the day was one of the diviest yet best salsaclubs in London. Thought about going on the night of Rachel’s hen night when we poured out of the Japanese karaoke bar opposite and I noticed that Irakere were playing…

So the visit we made to celebrate Nathan’s 40th birthday, was well overdue, as well as being pretty epic.

Epic in the sense that here’s a place that is SO iconic that it’s impossible to be there and not think ‘This is me at Ronnie Scotts. Here I am applauding and whistling each improvised solo, just like on the records. Here I am sipping wine whilst a guy pounds a bass and another wears a cap to jazz it up on a grand piano.’

I’m sure Alfred will shortly post photos so we’ll all be able to see just how cute he and Nathan looked in their designer shirts and sleek leather jackets.

I committed some kind of London faux pas by wearing items of colour. I wore a lime-green silk frock with a lilac linen jacket. Nosirree! In London they are all wearing grey, black and cream. Billboards for clothes shops sternly announce this fact. Not having enough money to shop at designer stores is not a valid excuse – even the posters for Matalan provided clear instruction.

I’ll get my coat.

On another note, one of Nathan’s friends was able to advise me on the top 3 chocolate desserts in London. He’d never been to Maggiore’s though, where they used to have a truly withering warm chocolate soup with pistachio ice-cream. At Ronnie Scotts I had a very yummy chocolate fudge pudding – two fudgy, shortcakey rounds squidged together with whipped cream. Damn fine.

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