Everything seems to be picking up, now that the days are growing longer and spring is round the corner.
I went to Sunday luncheon at Home House with a pleasant group of people. Yes, Home House, where the monied let down their hair and celebs rub elbows with royalty. (What you wouldn't guess is that it is only a few years old.)
I was invited by a pleasant young lady I met a few months ago at a political Party, um, party, and of a ruling family. It turns out she is a member of my old place, the Arts Club! So I know more than enough people now to be a guest there.
The guests were all from various mideastern countries (Ms R and Mr F from Kuwait, twins from the Emirates, a pair of French-Lebanese cousins) and one Indian, and all educated in Europe, the UK or the US, and mostly quite beautiful. So many nice teeth. All of us have been mistaken for something else. The twins look Greek. Ms R has been mistaken for Indian. I've been Indian, Lebanese, Italian, Egyptian, Greek...Well, I do have two, maybe three, of those.
The champagne flowed first in the bar, after which we moved upstairs to the dining room. Ms R had assigned our seating, which I liked because we alternated boy and girl. For starters, I chose a delicate crab spring roll on a fresh mango salsa. Following this I enjoyed grilled seabass on celeriac. Ms R had recommended the roast beef, but as I had some yesterday and it gave me grief, I passed. She did, however, give me her Yorkshire pudding because I like it and she doesn't. There is always room for dessert, so I had pear and almond tarte with berry coulis and cream, and a very delightfully mild and aromatic Earl Grey tea.
The big serious topic was racism in East versus West. The fact that one guy was a lawyer, and there were 8 people to contribute their thoughts, meant that it turned into a long discussion. We joked that next time we meet up, we will discuss ID cards.
Although everyone had impeccable table manners, for some reason they referred to me on a few protocol questions. I only dug my hole deeper by ordering Earl Grey, and then Mr F said that was just what is supposed to be drunk in the afternoon, isn't it? (I hadn't thought of it at all.)
I have also been encouraged to brush up on my Greek and Icelandic for next time. Ha.Ha.Ha...
Four and a half hours at lunch in good company. That is the best kind of Sunday.