Posts Tagged ‘theater’

Last Saturday I met O & K at the Royal Court Theatre for my first theatre-going experience in London since the summer 2005 debacle at The Old Vic. I thought I was seeing Kevin Spacey in Philadelphia and was looking forward to the drama but discovered, after the bartenders downstairs fell all over themselves to ply me with drink, that it was neither Philadelphia nor Kevin Spacey I would be seeing that night but The Philadelphia Story and his under study.

It is Wallace Shawn Season at the Royal Court with old and new pieces finding the light of the stage and I was able to see The Fever gratis, from the front row. A 90 minute, one woman performance ranging from illness to touchy political subjects; I feel less-than-qualified to give much of a review due to lack of experience with theater, so I will just say that I was impressed by the pacing and how it crept from light talk to heavy political debate. If a tad melodramatic, a bit black-or-white at times, and difficult for me to sit through 90 minutes of one person talking, I still enjoyed the performance and look forward to repeating the experience. Actually, I would greatly like to see Grasses of a Thousand Colors when it comes out. Likely a Monday.

I could have ridden there, but I wanted to wear the black cashmere beaded 3/4 sleeve length sweater that I’ve had since I got here and haven’t had the chance to wear b/c I’m always riding, so I took the train instead. Stupid public transport, it took ages and cost me about £6 there and back. I guess if I have to start taking it frequently I’ll look into getting an unlimited pass. O & K and their friends were in the basement bar of the Royal Court, a nice, dimly lit space with plenty of seating and tasty if not inexpensive eats. After the performance, and after saying goodbye to the friends, we went back downstairs for a quick nip and bite. They had soup & chips with aioli (ha! mayo “with” garlic!), I had rhubarb crumble. I’m obsessed with crumbles and K wants to learn how to bake, so I told him I’d teach him how to make cake. Then the next day a bunch of us went to the Chiswick boot sale and I picked up a cast iron baking dish perfect for making crumble and vow to wow K at the next opportunity. We talked baking for a little bit and then ran into the wall of one particular baked good.

Imagine trying to explain something to someone that is completely unlike anything they’ve ever encountered before and yet bears the name of something they know well. How do you do it? I thought that because he was Canadian he might know what biscuits are but no. Apparently Canadians do not know from biscuits.

Me: It’s…well, they’re biscuits. But not like cookies.
K: Are they crunchy?
Me: No, they’re…fluffy. And when you pull them apart they…*thinks*
K: ……. *blank look*
Me: Imagine a scone…like a pillow. *eyebrow wrinkle*

That’s the best I could do.

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