I should probably start this off by saying I'm not much of a drinker. It's not something I do that often. So naturally, I'...
I should probably start this off by saying I'm not much of a drinker. It's not something I do that often. So naturally, I'm a bit of a lightweight.
Saturday, Kris and I stayed overnight in Birmingham with 2 two of our awesome friends - Guy & Fiona. Spur of the moment, in the middle of a pub, I decided to blog the night. (with the attention span of a gnat, a belly full of gin and a deep hatred for using my phone while in social situations.)
So the moral of the story is, if you ply me with gin & tonic's and then take me out for a meal, I apparently become "food blogger extraordinaire" because the post I imagined in a gin haze and my memory of the photos is a lot better than the reality.
So yeah. Here it is. Lower all expectations.
Birmingham. Saturday 9th May.
First up, pre-drinks in the hotel. Then I put on actual make up and a top without food on it, and off we go! We have one round in a pub that smells like wee, then it's off the Bacchus bar, with it's roman paintings and medieval decor. We sit on stools, even though I hate stools. I have to run and jump to get on them. Actually, I'm pretty impressed I even got up here, so I'm not moving until we leave. Even if I need to pee. I decide to take a photo of our giant glasses next to this fake tomb we're sitting next to.
One bowl of gin and tonic consumed and pictures of ourselves are starting to sound like a good idea. Why does gin make me think I'll suddenly look good in pictures? I take a picture of husband while the guys are getting the next round. I only get husband's ear, beard and shoulder in frame. For some reason, I felt that was a great shot and don't take any more.
|That guy in the blue shirt is how I feel looking through these pictures.|
Four drinks down
Got to the restaurant just in time for the booking. Pretty waitress takes us through a massive crowd to get to our table. I feel very short in here. Everyone is wearing stilts. What's wrong with flats people?!
I feel very jealous of the decor in this place. It's gorgeous. Even the menu's are beautiful. I take an arty shot of the menu for instagram, which I suddenly care about more than usual. I curse the lighting,. When people stare, I nod knowingly and think "Food blogger woes, they'll never know the pain" This alerts me to the fact that I'm being a giant douche.
The many identical blurry pictures will have to be good enough because it's time to order and all I've done with the menu is artfully move it around and take pictures of it like an asshole.
|This is literally the ONLY half decent picture. DRINK IT IN.|
Despite the fact that it took us a while to decide what cocktails to buy and even longer for said cocktails to arrive, I make my thirsty friends artfully arrange their cocktails in a line whilst I furiously snap away. They all come out blurry and I genuinely for a second think that I should have bought my lighting kit and SLR. It's time to evaluate my priorities, but instead I get into a really awkward position and take some more blurry pictures.
People are starting to stare, but do I care? No, I am a food blogger. This is what I do. Okay, you've never done it before with a belly of gin. Or in general. But tonight I can start. I can do this.
I can't do this. Look at that guy in the back. Judging me. I swear I hear the words "basic bitch" come from somewhere but I can't be sure. The hen party sitting next to us is taking less pictures than I am.
I take the following notes on the cocktails. They are exactly the kind of notes a girl 4 gins down would take.
Fi's = purple and I like glass. (good to know)
Kris = Has half a passionfruit in it. Tastes so. (so what? SO WHAT?!)
Guy = 90% ice, named after restaurant (why is this revelant?)
I have no idea what I was hoping to achieve with these notes. The only taste notes I took were blazing obvious. Like saying a strawberry cocktail tasted like strawberries. I'll leave you alone with that bombshell of an observation.
I feel ashamed. I made people stop eating to take this piece of crap photo. For once in your life, you evaluate your life choices. Then you remember husband is eating mushrooms out of a trowel and drinking a poncey cocktail and you can't help yourself. Several more blurry snaps are on their way.
Action shots of people eating are cool, right? That's a thing?
Eventually you get bored of taking pictures of everything. Five drinks down and you decide to live in the moment. I take one shitty picture of the mains that I don't save and decide to just enjoy the meal and join in on the actual conversation.
The only picture of my pudding.
It looks like a penis. I mispelt kebab. It's very dark. It's very blurry. This is possibly the worst picture I've ever taken. Why did I take it on Snapchat AKA the worst camera in the world?
Nothing is ever so dismal though. I'm pretty sure I can scrub it up in Photoshop. Right? Bit of messing with the levels, some cropping and it will be awesome.
And that is why I don't do restaurant reviews. ESPECIALLY reviews with drinks.
So after the penis kebab, I switched to water and just enjoyed the time with my friends. Which was awesome, and I can tell you that overall, the meal was awesome.
I apologise fully to my snapchat friends who received weird snapchats of my food, close ups of my nose and my hotel toilet door. I'm still not entirely sure why I found it hilarious to send you those.
Most of all, I'm sorry Fi & Guy, who must of heard "Just gonna snap this for the blog" and probably weren't expecting that blog to be this big ole pile of crap.