Monday 16 January 2017

The archduke's daughter

Having spotted the bells in the course of the outing noticed at reference 1, we thought to attend the blessing of the bells (at Southwark Cathedral) a few days later. The bells of St. Saviour.

A wet and dark evening, with the walk up Union Street evoking times past, when that part of London was a busy industrial area, full of hand workers, rather than the brain workers who live there now. We thought we were a little early, so we popped into Black & Blue at Borough, which turned out to be the archduke's daughter, for a little something. See reference 2.

Inside, pretty much empty, we were taken in hand by one of the bevy of vivacious young ladies who explained that if we bought a whole bottle, it was half price - and assured us that we could come back later to finish it off. So we settled for what turned out to be a good bottle of 2014 Chablis, from Gautheron. Grand vin de Bourgogne even. See reference 3.

From there into what turned out to be a very crowded cathedral, full, inter alia, of bishops, deans and mayors. Mitres and croziers for the bishops, chains for the mayors. All the bishops and mayors were men, but around half the clergy looked to be women. There was even the odd mayoral jag. outside but we didn't get to see what the bishops did: perhaps they caught the bus and got changed in the vestry - with their robes being rather grand, if not quite in the same league as those we had seen at the V&A at the visit noticed at reference 4.

The bells had been dressed too, with the plywood sheets they had been stood on having been converted into an art work with the help of a great deal of cream wool, the sort you might use for knitting, by a local artist.

The service took the form of a modified evensong, with a mixed choir and the proper words, that is to say from the King James' bible, rather than some modern version. All very impressive, particularly the Magnificat, which I had forgotten about, even though we were in an aisle, rather near the back. Didn't get to see much of the blessing of the two new bells on the other side of the nave. But good to be in a church when it was being used for its intended purpose - even if I am a life-long atheist.

We did not take the offered glass of wine afterwards, mindful of our open bottle around the corner, to which we returned. Still quite quiet, although it picked up a bit as the evening progressed, progressed to the point of our taking a second bottle of the Chablis, something we have not done for a good long time. It was also a good long time since I last had steak and chips (served with spinach, which might have come from Borough Market leaves rather than a tin) - and I think I can say that this rather feeble itch has been scratched for a good while to come. I enjoyed the steak, perhaps more for memory's sake than for itself, but feel no present urge to take another. We also enjoyed the service from the aforementioned bevy. Very cheerful lot. All in all a worthy companion to the Archduke at Waterloo, a rather better place than the rather casual mention at reference 5 would suggest.

Lastly, a note on the décor, of the kind which seems to have swept through the mid range restaurants which we seem to patronise, perhaps best exemplified by that in the Prezzo chain, visited in Ely and just arrived at Epsom. Lots of browns, blacks and shiny surfaces. Tasteful ornaments scattered around. Perhaps arty, black and white photographs. A tendency to have a mixture of seats, probably all from the same range but not all of the same model and colour. Rather open plan, often, although not on this occasion, with a good part of the kitchen on view. I associate to the word palette from Visual Basic, a collection of colours applicable to the job in hand. Presumably décor people have one, perhaps one for each season, to save them from having to think when they get the next commission.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/cheese.html.

Reference 2: http://www.blackandbluerestaurants.com/.

Reference 3: http://www.chablis-gautheron.com/. A rather irritating site, but I was pleased to see that the ground on which the vines grow is named for our very own Kimmeridge in Dorset, even if the place is better known for its clays, rather than its limestones.

Reference 4: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/sewing.html.

Reference 5: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/rhapsody-in-blue-continued.html.

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