In another world, another time, another era, she walks into Bob Bob Ricard, “I am Isabella Rosellini and I am going to devour you,” her alter ego says as she smirks through the velvet curtains, swaying high on the art deco tiles and then, like an elegant wind, she places her clutch on the table and sits on the silky leather chair in her strapless black dress.
Isabella flirts a glare at her early companion, only pretending to be shy, she leans forward with an elbow on the table, her chin at the edge of her palm and says, “Hello Kyle, I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for too long.” Without leaving her gaze, he presses the champagne button, “I will wait forever if I had to.”
The waiter, linear, neat and lucid pours into her glass. It sizzles and spits sparkles like a mini firework display, bustling in wild collision within the walls of her flute and mildly intensify the tension between them. Clink. She raises the glass to her deep ruby lips, framed so elegantly by her short fringed bob. The cold, dry champagne slivers into her mouth like a river of mercury clinging onto her tongue then bouncing off like atoms of the northen lights.
“I have taken the liberty of ordering on your behalf,” declares Kyle, “Bob Bob himself has recommended the Ox Tongue Terrine, Truffles with Russian Salad and the Veal Holstein – all with accompanying liquor. He tells me it draws out all the flavours in the food.” Looking down at Kyle, Isabella’s lips curl, she can not hide how she loves it when a man takes control.
“Remember Tuscany? 2003?” Asks Kyle, “How we met in secret by the sea under the moon light?” “Yes, it was the only cool place in entire Italy,” she chuckles, “it was a hot summer.” “I hope you do not mind but I have taken another liberty of ordering the Sassicaia – you were soaking in that same hot sun as the grapes that summer and it reminds me of you – sweet, dark, opulent and velvety.”
They eat. The food is luxuriously created, lavish and palatial in its presentation. They drink from frozen shot glasses and found quirky ingredients on their plate, like a quails egg and anchovy on the veal schnitzel with balls of zucchini.
She loves the red of the place. The velvets and the low shades of light. Her Chocolate Glory dessert in form of a sphere of chocolate with mousse and orange jelly is exquisite to her taste and tickles her fancy like a child at Christmas, all eyes wided and teeth. It is time to tell him her story.
Thank you to Eat Like A Girl for arranging a dinner for Bloggers at Bob Bob Ricard in July 2010. Thank you to Leonid Shutov for coming to Fernandez & Leluu in September 2010. Hope there will be many dinners to come between us.
Bob Bob Ricard 1 Upper James Street, London, W1F 9DF +44 (0)203 145 1000 [email protected] www.bobbobricard.com/