Great fry ups and great parties - if that's all a bro got, then he got something good going on. Our recent autumnal jolly to Bristol had two of the best we'd nommed on for some time.
After a Friday night tanning lagers in some of the city's seedier watering holes, a suitably sumptuous plate of greasy treats was required to soak up the bubbles. And lo, it was delivered with clean cut authority and eaten with wide eyed wonder. The dish was a life ring to a drowning man with black pudding was so good it could have been beamed in from space.
GOOSE NIGHT was the evening after where some preposterous tapas was taken care of by our collective mouths. Confit of goose and quince must have been two of the ponciest food stuffs to get stuck between these teeth. But eating was followed by a classic rave in the downstairs of an Indian restaurant with Amsterdam house dude Young Marco. He provided a healthy slice of drugs music for the basement to shake to which saw us up until first light and only getting once it had gone dark on the Sunday. Nice one Bristol crew...
