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The invite |
A collaboration of art
and food. My two favourite things. This pop up restaurant by the Real Greek really upped the anti. The setting was the ground floor of creative Agency, Mother in
Shoreditch, (where I work). The diners sat underneath spectacular lit up gigantic umbrellas,
an art instillation by Thomas Brown and Anna Burns.
Downstairs at Mother |
The daily familiarity
Mother being my place of work inevitably means I didn’t experience the wow
factor as much as the other guests must have, but I’ll transport you back how I felt on my fist day. Once through the blacked out doors, visitors to Mother HQ in the
Biscuit Building are confronted with an impossibly vast space that is as big wide as it is
high, one wall is covered in silver graffiti and another with a huge Peter
Blake. It is sparse in a pleasing way, the only furniture being 6 long red benched
and tables that the Mother employees dot around for lunch. The office didn’t
win top 10 in the UK for nothing.
The Real Greek’s head
chef, Theodore Kyriakou cooked up a never ending feast of dishes, easing us in with
an ouzo and fennel mojito shot. I hadn’t had ouzo since a holiday to Malia and
memories of a week spent rampaging through the strip of night clubs came
hurtling back. Better move onto the octopus topped dolma and feta and spinach
filo canapés. They divided our group of 6, half thought the dolma too sweet and
the other half thought the pastries slightly salty. This debate resulted in us
eating about 6 each, just to make sure we were on the right side.
We sat down to tables
decorated with sheets of paper that told stories of the special Greek
ingredients. I like this foody trend of explaining minute details about the
ingredients you are eating, and when presented like this, it was a great
conversation starter too. I found out all about how octopus’ reproduce while
tucking into my starter of cold roast vegatables. The artichoke hearts were a
real hit.
The main course was
young lamb casserol with an elephant bean sauce. The meat was unbelievably
tender and the beans had a lovely hearty smoky flavour.
When the chocolate
mousse with mixed herb ice cream was brought to our table, it looked amazing.
After further investigation, an artistic drizzle of what can only be described
as a balsamic dressing, would have been better on a salad and similarly, the
strong herby flavour of the ice cream, which I usually associate with lamb,
tricked my taste buds into thinking I was eating a meaty sweet ice cream.
Apart from the slightly odd pudding, The Real Greek’s and Thomas Brown and Anna Burn’s takeover of
Mother was really good fun. It was a particulary wet windy night and I left wanting
to shove my broken black umbrella in the bin and swap it for one of the fun
umbrellas and a little bit of Greek sun. Please.
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