My dinner with Adrian…….

Ever wondered what it’s like to dine out with AA Gill, food and TV critic at The Sunday Times, boyfriend of The Blonde, hobbnobber with the stars and Jeremy Clarkson? Well now I can tell you because I did. I say with but what I actually mean is at the table cosily next door to: AA Gill, The Blonde, Sir Michael Gambon and Philippa Hart, in an uber-ultra-uber-trendy restaurant especially created for the uber-ultra-uber-trendy. I was beside myself with joy, well actually I was beside Dumbledore, because I absolutely love AA Gill’s writing. I’m not that bothered by what he thinks but the way he thinks it makes me moan and gasp in hysterics most Sunday mornings, choking on my wholemeal sour dough toast and snorting latte from my nose. And I think Sir Michael is damn fine too, I’ve seen his Pinter.

Shrimpy’s is the latest love child from David Waddington and Pablo Flack, of Bistrotheque, and is housed in The Filling Station, quite literally an ex-petrol station, back of King’s Cross, over-looking the canal: a clutch of tables, bar stools at the bar, big windows, small menu, linen, silverware and glass; think Edward Hopper does The Stork Club. The food is sort-of-south-American and their signature dish is a Soft-Shell Crab Burger. And so my mate Nige and I filled up on salt cod croquettes, calamari, a mass of crunchy soft-shell crab and avocado in a bun, octopus and shoestring fries, where I once filled up with petrol. The thing is, so did AA Gill, The Blonde, Sir Michael Gambon and Philippa Hart, and let me tell you Adrian’s bun was bigger than mine.

“I can see where the other 7 legs went now.” remarked my mate Nige, as their order of octopus and potato arrived.

Because I was snuggled up next to Dumbledore on the banquet, and opposite Adrian, I could see straight through the rectangular window and into the kitchen where, behind AA's head, Tom Collins, the head chef and nowhere to be seen when we’d first arrived on this Monday night but now very much present and possibly air-lifted in when one of the soft-shell-shocked crew recognised who was in (I’m sure Gill's face along with every other critic’s is plastered in most restaurant kitchens) were amassing their food with due diligence in a flurry of fevered activity. Then me and my mate Nige sort of slipped off the radar and might well still be sat there now waiting for dessert menus if we hadn’t pleaded with a waitperson. We shared a chocolate brownie sundae and so did Adrian …… but not with us. It was delicious despite my mate Nige getting both bits of brownie. The service, when we got it, was charming and the bill is big even if the portions are not. Roll on Sunday, I can’t wait to see if we enjoyed our dinner…………

Top tip: fake summer........ turn the heating up high, ware flip-flops round the house and drink pink wine.........