The Brunch Project, episode 1

Standard
Dress code: ties not required.

MJ has called me out on my lack of blogging.  I attempted to claim I was actually blogging by mime, but I knew the bitter truth would out eventually.  So let me just admit now that I was abducted by aliens.  Again.  Fucking aliens.

Fortunately, I was able to escape long enough to nip out for brunch with Secret Agent Fred and our dear friend Anne, the Fashion Sensation.  Unfortunately, brunch was at the Four Seasons hotel.  Many years ago, when the earth was new and so was the Four Seasons, the joint was a chi-chi place of asian fusion cuisine and lots of gorgeous deco inspired furniture in luxurious finishes like silk and marquetry in a beautiful palette of gold and verdigris and taupe.  Now asian fusion has run its course and the menu has settled down to eggs and bacon and french toast, which is ok with me, and the furnishings are looking a little tatty and worse for wear.  Here’s a free tip from mreeenee Decorating Services, ltd.:  if you go for a luxe look, you need to keep that shit up.  Chipped inlays and frayed velvet are only okay if you’re old money.

The service?  Bad.  We were there late, so they only had two other tables to work and yet they managed to avoid us adroitly.  Miss Sensation thought our waiter looked like “Maria Callas’s ugly niece,”but he reminded me of Eric Blore and sounded like Peter Lorre.  You know he watches cop shows and titters a little too knowingly to himself “Oh, right, like that’s how they question serial killer suspects.”

Food?  I suppose there was food, I don’t really recall, something about eggs benedict with a sauce that strongly resembled mayonnaise.  Drinks?  The Creature from the Blore/Lorre Lagoon denied they could make a Pimm’s Cup even as I looked past his shoulder to the bar where Miss Sensation and I had settled in a couple of weeks ago to discuss over Pimms Cups the sorry state of our respective lives.  or “lives.”

On the plus side, there was a very attractive guy near us for Fred and me to ogle.  At different points during the afternoon, it seemed likely he was going to mount the young woman he was with.  Tragically, it was no go.

In summary, the Brunch Report gives the Four Seasons a C.  And an expensive C to boot.

7 responses »

  1. Thank god MJ shamed you into blogging; I was afraid I was going to have to do it, and I do so hate to be the heavy. I remember brunching at the Four Seasons with you and R-Man years ago and it being quite nice. Pity. But then as Thom says . . . .

    Like

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