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Oooh! it's dangerous having a restaurant-owning fantasy! I was strolling through town the other day, and came across the site of my first date with Fred (all at once now - aahhhhh!): 57 Jermyn Street, now sadly boarded up. It's an amazing space, with a really 1940's speakeasy, clubby feel to it. I dream of it having a long, battered, zinc topped bar, serving great steaks, grilled to seeping perfection, native oysters, Dublin Bay prawns, simply grilled, spankingly fresh fish - very Musso and Frank's, very Taylors, very Butcher and Singer. And it would be furnished with pieces from great old ocean liners, long since scrapped. A place where you sip your martini cold, whist it's still laughing at you and relax. It's a night out for Christ's sake. Sigh. Comments (1)
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