An opportune shift

In this working from home period during lockdown, I have to have video-conferences on an almost daily basis. This made me realise that the poster set-up that I'd had on the wall facing my work WebCam was suboptimal:

I absolutely adore the Nick Wilde plushie in the photo though, and wouldn't trade him for the world.

I liked Wonder Woman a lot, it was my tenth favourite film of 2017 (at the time of writing), and It probably makes my top 20 of 2017. But for a film to be rewarded a special spot on my wall, it has to be a bit more special than top 20, top 10 of the year! (It was awarded a place more due to the fact that it was based on a  Stephen King novel, which my favourite film also happens to be. More on that later).

In addition to being films which weren't the best representation of Emma's cinephile tastes, they were also too small to be spotted from the Webcam. So ideally, I'd want one film poster rather than two, large enough that its title could be recognised instantly.

Thus, I turned to my current obsession, and a film I seem determined to own all the merch for, Parasite:

This amazing artwork was done by The Geeky Illustrator. I had already bought a The Shawshank Redemption poster from him and was not disappointed, so I went back for more with this gorgeous Parasite poster. It complements the lime green of my wall so well (not to mention Nick Wilde's shirt), and the use of the son's tent for the second 'A' is just inspired!

So, going forwards, I can now have Webex calls with more confidence. Thank you, The Geeky Illustrator!

My Moneyball moment

Earlier this year, I had a job interview for a Finance role, wherein I had to give a pitch about myself. I found the task a little daunting (how does one sell themselves without sounding egotistical?), but I remembered one of the fundamental tenets of good film writing: show, don't tell.

Rather than tell my interviewers what I could do, I thought I'd show them. I said I had some experience with R, and put my money where my mouth was in the form of this graph:

So there you go: my very own "Jonah Hill in Moneyball" moment. And just like Hill's character convinced Brad Pitt with his expert understanding of baseball economics, I convinced my interviewers thanks to my graph of goals scored by Chelsea players!

And they say films don't teach you anything. ;)

Bar review: PIANO WORKS BAR (Farringdon)

I love singing. Whether it be Disney songs, RnB, Broadway showtunes, power ballads, I’m happiest when I’m warbling along to music (and often getting the lyrics wrong in the process). Piano Works allows you to do this to live piano music, along with a percussive and jazz band, and a lead singer, whilst dancing in a night-club-style venue. That was my Friday night sorted, then.

The band played their instruments really well, with flamboyance from the electric guitars when the occasion called for it, and more nuanced accompanying for other songs. The band shrewdly rotated singers depending on the flavour of the song. Sometimes, as was the case with Kanye West’s Goldigger, more than one person sang at a time. They had a fantastic female singer who belted out How Far I’ll Go from Moana. Given I have recently just watched Moana and the song is fresh in my mind, that in itself made that Friday one of the best nights out I’ve had in a long time.

The song choices at Piano Works were on point. They played Uptown Funk, Piano Man, American Boy, Grace Kelly… basically, crowd pleasers. And the crowd was very pleased. Here’s a clip of their performance of What Makes You Beautiful. The One Direction song is only my fourth favourite of all-time, so I had a whale of a time dancing to it!

Film review: MY MAN GODFREY (Gregory La Cava, 1936)

Irene Bullock, a pampered Park Avenue princess falls for her butler Godfrey and is not used to being met with resistance as said butler gives his employers some much-needed schooling in humility in La Cava’s screwball comedy that dextrously traverses themes of love, class and humanity.

Toy review: NICK WILDE FROM ZOOTROPOLIS SOFT TOY (Disney Store)

I like to make my lime green bedroom as me as possible. On one wall, I have Chelsea FC pictures, as well as a still of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's. I've started decorating the opposite wall with personal photos, and a poster of Gal Gadot in Wonder Woman.

Evidently, I like to be reminded of movies all the time. ❤️ And, given how enamoured I was with Jason Bateman's character in Zootopia, it made sense to pop down to the Disney Store on Oxford Circus, and treat myself to a Nick Wilde soft toy for £12.95. 

Here I am the very day I procured the furry dude:

Film review: OF HUMAN BONDAGE review (John Cromwell, 1934)

Philip Carey (Leslie Howard), a man with club foot, embarks on medical school, having been told he has no aptitude for artistry. One day, when out with friends, he meets a tarty, coarse waitress named Mildred (Bette Davis). Despite her unattractive personality, her unusual but not altogether becoming looks, and her barely-disguised contempt for his physical condition, Philip falls hopefully in love with her, an attachment which she flagrantly abuses.

Statistical Analysis of Usage of My Odeon Limitless Card

I went on a 4-hour R course last year, and since then, I’ve just been fixated with adapting the code they gave us to draw pretty graphs with, in order to nerd out over my personal interests (chiefly, films and football).

This post will be much like the one I did six months ago when I analysed my film-watching habit of 2016 across all mediums, only here, I’m just analysing the 69 titles I saw on my Odeon Limitless card with some attempts at ~science behind the graphs I present.

Product review: ORIGINAL WAYFARER SHADES (Rayban)

Now that the sun is shining in Britain, it's important to shield one's eyes from the scorching sun, whilst also looking the part. I have several pairs of sunglasses, but, due to my fixation with Nabokov's Lolita, they predominantly tend to be heart-shaped. I've seen characters in films ooze swag in Ray-ban sunglasses before, most memorably Emma Stone in Easy A when she struts down the hall wearing wayfarers and a basque and everyone gawps at her. 

Get (that misplaced full stop) Out.

I watched Get Out this evening. Partly because critics and my friends alike have been raving about it,  but mainly because I'm a massive BBFC nerd and I was curious if this typo (a full stop where there should be a comma) would show up on the big screen, before the movie.

Spoiler alert: it did.

Tut tut, BBFC! Not been doing too well recently with all those typos, are we?!

Good movie was good, by the way. Brit Daniel Kaluuya was an ace leading man and Jordan Peele, the comedian, had a surprisingly tight control of the story and plot. Get Out was a horror movie that did not go places I expected it to go.  8/10.

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In case you hadn't realised, I nerd out over the BBFC in a major way. The rest of my studious investigation of them here.

Tale as old as time... (that Emma Watson can't act)

Out of tune singing is out of tune, and clunky guitar-playing is clunky, but at least it's not quite as questionable as the other two Emma's, Watson and Stone.

That was the first take, so a bit rubbish. I preferred this audio recording, but annoyingly, couldn't upload it as a video, so if you're not too bored, give that superior version a listen. 😎

I saw Beauty and the Beast on Thursday, and whilst being predictably bored by Emma Watson's blank, passionless face in all her scenes, actually quite enjoyed it. Some of the musical numbers were very entertaining, especially 'Gaston', a song which aptly sums up the mentality of the vast majority of clown guys who I've had the misfortune of having gone on dates with in London.

Only difference is Gaston has more humility.

A Silent Microaggression.

You know, for a newspaper who loves to lecture their readership about racial stereotyping (in a case of timing you couldn't make up, just four days ago they ran this hectoring piece about Asian stereotypes), you'd think they'd bother to learn the difference between Japanese films:

The caption pertains to A Silent Voice. Yet the image is a still from Your Name. I guess all Japanese animes look the same to Guardian sub-editors.

Perhaps of Guardian writers focused on say, actually doing the research they're paid to do, rather than preaching piously or shagging about, they wouldn't have made such a mistake. Just suggesting.

This isn't the first time they've confused two compatriots, with embarrassing circumstances. In their tribute to the passed away Cruyff, they published a photo of Rob Rensenbrink:

No wonder The Guardian are begging for money now. #FakeNews

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Bonus graphic, from The Evening Standard, which perfectly encapsulates my confusion on how Isabelle Huppert's icy tour-de-force in Elle lost to Yellowface Felicia dancing like she had two left feet:

Bar review: ADVENTURE BAR AND LOUNGE (Covent Garden)

Continuing with my reviews of bars and restaurants in the Covent Garden is Adventure Bar, which boasts a healthy menu of creative drinks and generous Happy Hours. I probably saved a bit more money than I would have spent in the presence of Happy Hour, with a Groupon voucher that entitled the buyer to six cocktails for £24. 

Unlike some other Groupon deals which restrict you in the choice of food and drink you can buy with your voucher, this deal was valid on all the cocktails. An Old Fashioned and 50 Shades of Earl Grey were the first drinks sampled:

Film review: HOUSEBOAT (Melville Shavelson, 1958)

This review is my entry to Phyllis Loves Classic Movies’s fabulous Cary Grant blogathon, where every entry is a celebration of the man’s varied and illustrious CV. Head on over there to read about all the films he’s been in!

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Tom Winston (Grant), a recently widowed father of three young kids, and Cinzia Zaccardi (Sophia Loren), the aristocratic daughter of an Italian count who plays childminder to the kids, find unlikely love (and a whole lot of miscommunication) in Melville Shavelson’s gentle 50s comedy.

Film review: SOMEONE TO TALK TO [一句顶一万句] (Liu Yulin, 2016)

A couple get married, full of love and hope for their future together. Several years down the line, they barely speak a word to each other. Around their anniversary, one discovers the other has been cheating on them and filled with murderous rage, revenge becomes their raison d'être as they do everything they can to ruin their spouse's life.

Actually, I'm not retelling the plot for Gone Girl, but Liu Yulin's debut movie Someone to Talk to. Adapted from the 2011 Mao Dun Literature Prize, 一句顶一万句is an economical yet intimate look at what happens after the love has gone out of a marriage and feelings of resentment at having one's heart broken fester.

Niu Aigo (Hai Mao) is the jilted husband, who tries his best as the patriarch of the family, but unfortunately his modest earnings as a cobbler and simple vision for their future aren't to the pleasure of his wife, who has outgrown him, and has an affair with the wealthier local wedding planning magnate. The film is considerably less kind to her, and rightly so, given she makes comments that make her seem like a  right gold-digging shrew. Woman knew her husband was poor when he married her; she doesn't get to screw everything up when that slowly sinks in.

In only his second film role, Hai Mao is just wonderful as a man who, after being wronged, is all affront and sharp edges, until self-realisation (and a few convenient plot machinations) give him the self-realisation to let go and become a stronger person for it.

His character essentially goes through all five stages of grief through the course of the film, and in doing so, exhibits some spiteful colours. But it's a testament to Mao's humane, heartfelt performance that even at his lowest points, you're rooting for this guy to pull through. His character was reminiscent of John C. Reilly in Chicago, another pitiable cuckold, and it's rare that cinema not only focuses on the person who's been left behind, but the person who was left behind happens to be male.

Someone to Talk to also features a subplot about Aigo's older sister's ill-fated online dating adventures and how she eventually settles, because, as she matter-of-factly states, 'I'm 39. I couldn't get anyone younger'. This kind of pragmatic, frank dialogue makes Someone to Talk to by far the most honest Chinese film I've seen this year (although there's not much in the way of competition).

Liu Yulin directs the story in such an unfussy, natural manner, with a working class Chinese town as the backdrop, I was invested in the plot in a way other films with more frills have failed to achieve. One scene, where Aigo angrily takes his frustration at his wife gallivanting out on his young daughter, carried genuine pathos and was far more powerful than anything I watched in yesterday's manufactured, sappy, The Shite Between Oceans.

I like a good revenge flick a hell of a lot more thanas much as the next person. Films like Gone Girl and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo contain scenes which imbue me with sadistic wish fulfilment at various men who have wronged me. I myself can nurse a grudge for quite a while, although my modus operandi is significantly less bloody and a tad pettier than anything Amy Dunne or Lisbeth Salander confect; that bellend Stefan who racially abused me over a year ago is immortalised in my Fantasy Football team name, 'Stefan is a Kuntz'.

But there's a lot to be said for Someone to Talk To's more forgiving approach. 

Someone to Talk to is a sincere and profound look at loneliness and the multifaceted nature of marriage, elevated by the magnanimous treatment it gives its protagonist. It illustrates how toxic holding onto past transgressions can be, not just to oneself, but to those that we love. Ultimately, it encourages the protagonist and the audience to look beyond, not behind.

Perhaps it's time I, like Aigo, made like Elsa from Frozen, and Let It Go. Good news for Wasteman, Watford fan and The Wolf of Fleet Street, then.

8/10

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If you enjoyed this review, do check out my other ones, which include a fair few Chinese movies.

Bar review: McQUEEN (Old Street)

Named after an actor who is generally perceived to be one of the coolest screen presences of all time, McQueen the bar is somewhat of a misnomer. It strives to be stylish, alright, but isn’t swagger something you just effortlessly have? It’s not really je ne sais quoi if you’re trying desperately to procure the quoi in question.

I went to McQueen last night on an "Asians in London" meet-up, and the entire ground floor was rented out to us, which was a nice gesture of hospitality. I thought such a busy event was a little under-staffed, considering Asians and non-Asians came pouring in in their droves, and at one point, I asked if I could have a drink to a boy at the til and he told me ‘I don’t serve’. Why do you stand behind the bar then mate?

I wasn’t completely sold on the décor, which consisted of lots of weird and wacky statues and ornaments, but the individual pieces didn’t fit with each other to give a cohesive image of the bar, and certainly not very Steve McQueenish. This wall hanging below is a bit creepy, truth be told:

I also wasn’t too impressed with the close positioning of the sofas at the centre of the room, which meant that it was practically impossible not to bump into someone if you wanted to head towards the bar.

My Litmus test for whether or not I consider a London bar overpriced or not is the price of that first round (assuming the round is for two people). If it falls below £10, then I’m a fan. Hence why I adore so many Wetherspoons so. 

If that first round exceeds £10, that’s not the end of the world, but the bar has to have a certain élan to atone for their above-median prices of drinks. And that isn’t an excessively taxing imposition; I’ve had excellent impressions of several bars in London that charge a pretty penny for their drinks, ranging from The Escapologist to Reverend JW Simpson, because their cocktails were just on point.

After all, I don’t mind paying over the odds if the ambience and quality of service matches the price. McQueen sadly didn’t have that; the atmosphere was fairly stale and consisted purely of the  noise from conversations of the people at the event. Would it have killed the managers to play some pop music?

For the next round, I ordered a soft drink in order to save some money. But a lime cordial was shockingly priced at £2.50 (it's 40p in a lot of London pubs!)

In terms of riding on the laurels of its Shoreditch location and not delivering on the rest, it’s definitely not the most guilty (that would be, hands down, Worship Street Whistling Shop, one of the worst bars in London). But McQueen was nothing earth-shattering, and certainly nothing the man it was named after would hurry to write home about.

Grade: C

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The rest of my bar reviews are all listed here. If you would like me to review your's, e-mail me at lemon_and_lime7@hotmail.com.

Cooking Stuff that Looks Bad But Tastes Delicious #1: The Nemo.

I've been making the most of my mum being in China and having the kitchen to myself recently (I don't like cooking when surrounded by people, haha). 

My concoctions don't look too appetising, but as I bung in ingredients I like and ingredients I like only, I'm usually very pleased with the end product!

So in this haphazard invention, which I will call 'The Nemo' (because there's fish fingers in it), I put:
- 4 baby potatoes
- one red onion
- one tomato
- cheddar cheese
- oil
- 4 fish fingers

And after it was all cooked, I dipped the fish fingers in tomato ketchup.

Next time I cook it, I would increase the number of baby potatoes to about 6 or 7, as they reduce in size when fried due to it being on the pan for the longest period of time. But apart from that, I really liked The Nemo!

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In other, completely unrelated-to-cooking news, I saw that Damien Chazelle's upcoming La La Land, hotly tipped to rack up multiple Oscar nominations, got a PG in Ireland despite getting a 12A over here.

I find this very interesting because I think it illustrates the Irish are a bit more flexible about single uses of the f-word depending on context, whereas for the BBFC (and the MPAA), it leads to an automatic 12A/PG-13.

A subtle point, but illustrates the nuances in different countries' attitudes towards swearing!

I wonder who hollers the solitary f-bomb in the movie, Emma or Ryan? (Or maybe, given his character's colourful language in Whiplash, J.K. Simmons gets that honour...)

Restaurant Review: VIBE GELATERIA BAR (Orpington)

Me and my friend had an hour to kill before Bridget Jones’ Baby last week so we gave Vibe, the latest dessert parlour to open in Orpington, our patronage. (To be quite honest, there are now more ice cream places than Orpington needs. After all, the town only has a population of 15,000!)

I complained about one of Vibe’s main competitors, Cream’s, for having idiots for sales assistants, but at least the quality of their ice cream was infallible. The same cannot be said for Vibe, which was selling something as crap as this for £5.50:

It probably looks harmless, but the ingredients had a distinctly C-list taste to it, as opposed to Cream’s, where I was wolfing down my ice cream due to the moreish components of the inventions. Also, if you just peruse over the menus of the two parlours, you’ll find that you’ll get much value for £5 at Creams’ than you will here. And the banana tasted off. Just saying.

The main thing that irritated me about Vibe, however, wasn’t the below-par ice cream, but the ‘service’ (if you can call it that) that we got from the pushy waiter. Because Vibe has just opened, they were doing a deal, which was all cocktails a fiver. Normally, I’d be all over that; there are precious few things that make me happier than a good cocktail. But, like everything in life that I enjoy, there’s a time and a place for everything. A weekday where both of us had work the next day wasn’t the time for a cocktail, so we politely declined. Yet, he still kept trying to pressure us into buying one.

This man seriously needs a lesson in consent. No means NO. A fiver isn’t much money by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s still OUR money, and up to us how to see fit how to dispense the money. If we said we didn’t feel like a cocktail, he shouldn’t have been so damn persistent. Especially when, in a desperate attempt to stay relevant, the cocktails were named after films, and the Word Art job on the menu was not the most enticing: -

‘Godfather’ is one word, just saying. And maybe they should have named one of the cocktails 'Enchantress', given that if this gelateria were an actress, it would be Cara Delevingne.

Something else which irked me was that when I got my phone out to take a photo of the creation, to point out how poor value for £5.50 it offers compared to Cream’s £4.75 creation, the waiter asked me to check into Facebook, to ‘raise publicity for Vibe, as it had just opened’.

Mate, do I look like a shill to you? And even shills get paid. If he wanted me to check in, he should have said they’d waive the fee of the (crap) ice cream, or throw in something free for us. I sure wasn’t going to publicly acknowledge I’d been to this hellhole on Facebook for free. Nothing for nothing in this world, mate. Nothing for nothing.

Final part of the rant: the manager of the restaurant was working that evening, cruising each of the tables to ingratiate himself with the punters. He spent more time with tables which were larger, which is completely fair enough, as by Law of Averages, there’s more people on that table that are likely to generate word of mouth about Vibe. But when he came over to our table, all we got was a brief ‘good evening?’ and before we’d had time to give a decent response, he’d bounced onto the next table.

I am not impressed with that. We may have been but two mid-20s girls who seemed reluctant to part with our money, and sharing one dessert between two of us, but we were still paying customers like everyone else there. The manager made a huge oversight by ignoring us. I can generate word of mouth too, mate. Ever heard of a blog?

It’s probably a tad injudicious of me to keep reviewing places in Orpington, and being a Jennifer Lawrence-in-American Hustle-esque cow in my appraisals, given I can see myself slowly talking myself into being a persona non grata in most restaurants in this suburban town.

But I’m not the type of customer who takes being mistreated lying down. And when I can pop to Tesco’s and buy myself a tub of Neapolitan ice cream and dust some sprinkles on top, why would I want to visit Vibe again? My own makeshift dessert would be infinitely more delicious and substantially cheaper than the crap they offer at Vibe, and graciously not come with a side order of ‘bad attitude’.

#ByeFelicia

Grade: U

Interesting BBFC Short Insights.

In case you thought I was done talking crap about the BBFC and Jonah Hill with my blog post on Saturday, you were quite mistaken, thank you very much.

Having the BBFC app installed on my phone means I can eat up commutes by entering my favourite film stars’ names into the search box and pedantically spot things that are amiss, such as:

I've never seen a U-rated film with strong language, just saying. Or just being a pedantic cnut. (It's not an 18-rated use of the c-word if you call yourself it).

A few other screenshots from the app I have sitting around on my phone feature short insight that was, for one reason or another, quite eye-watering:

Not everyday you see that in a line of insight!

The insight for Blue Velvet, which turns 30 this year, is a curious artefact because it shows how crucial it is to include an 'and' between the 'sex' and 'violence', else you'll get the first classification issue, something else altogether: sexual violence.

What's interesting about Blue Velvet's 18 certificate is that practically all the 18-rated content is due to Dennis Hopper's nightmarishly scary Frank Booth. He pillages, mutilates, rapes, and also, is the only character in the film to utter the f-word. And he says it a lot, especially when someone asks for an alcoholic beverage he doesn't agree with. (Spoiler alert: he's not a fan of this drink).

Although I despise this pretentious film, (it's in my bottom 10 of all-time), I think Hopper was absolutely magnificent as Frank Booth, giving an iconic performance as one of the most memorable movie villains of all time. 

I mean, you can see why I identify with him: one's a foul-mouthed, perverted psychopath.

The other's a figment of David Lynch's imagination.

Continuing with BBFC short insights of films in my bottom 10 of all time; this Bible-bashing movie be my second most despised film ever, second only to American Hustle. 

It was bloated and boring A F, and the BBFC aren't wrong with their short insight. It certainly does contain potentially dangerous behaviour: you could potentially fall asleep from boredom and never wake up as a result of watching this snorefest.

On the topic of 'potentially dangerous behaviour' as a classification issue, The Secret World of Alex Mack, which is a kid's show, getting a 15 might seem odd, especially as it has a GP (the olden version of the PG) from the MPAA. I haven't seen this show but given it's about a kid for kids, I'd imagine PG is correct, generally.

But the BBFC have one issue of contention which gets them extremely anxious and trigger-happy to up-rate, that doesn't seem to be shared with other viewing boards across the world, and that's the perilous practice of a child hiding in a tumble dryer, particularly if such an act isn't demonstrated to have negative consequences.

That's precisely why this show's a 15 (I only know this from reading around). Because Alex does exactly that in one of the episodes and the action is not only presented to be dangerous, but fun and whimsical. An impressionable kid watching this might draw the wrong conclusions from watching Alex do so and try it out from themselves.

On several of the BBFC podcasts, they've discussed how every year, some children crawl into tumble driers, their parents don't know they're in there, and the kid dies. It's not a high proportion of children, but still, a life is still a life, and as such, I completely empathise with the BBFC's justification for rating a kid's show with PG content 15. They're just being responsible. If only they exercised such responsibility when rating Sausage Party, isn't it.

There's a line between being being responsible and being a nanny-state, however. 18 for dangerous car stunts? Seems a bit harsh.

This is the extended insight for a movie called, Oliver, Stoned, which is an 18 purely for marijuana use.

This isn't just draconian but also inconsistent, given movies with some pretty graphic depictions of harder drugs have been passed 15 (off the top of my head, I'm thinking  Candy, Wild, War Dogs, Get Him to the Greek, but there's really loads of 15-rated titles with depictions of heroin or cocaine use).

It's only MJ in this movie and it got an 18! Evidently, the BBFC really don't like glamorisation of drugs, even soft ones.

This 18-rated film, a very good adaptation of my favourite novel, thoroughly earns its 18 certificate. The BBFC insight is detailed, bordering on spoilerish, though, no?

Another insight line that is detailed to the point of giving away the plot...

And again! With Nobody Knows and Cracks, I don't see why they couldn't have just used 'mature themes' in both instances.

Another short insight that is almost too prescriptive.

I'm not sure if this is more of a line of insight, or a value judgement about the quality of the film?! What one man may judge to be 'irresponsible behaviour' might seem like just good fun to a more immature individual like me.

As with Mr Bean's Holiday, this feels closer to a line you'd expect in a review rather than a description of what to expect in terms of content.

'Historical cigarette advertising', lol.

The last issue I'll talk about is a turn of phrase which, thanks to the BBFC's employment in short insights, I absolutely adore: 'emotional intensity'. I'm a fairly emotional person (I cried from beginning to end at Kubo and the Two Strings), so my default setting is 'mild emotional' intensity'...

.... although when I'm on the blob, this line is more accurate.

Not to be confused with Martin Scorsese's upcoming film, this is one extremely detailed and specific PG classification issue, eh?

'Drawings of explicit sex'. 😳

I started with a bit of BBFC bantz about one of my favourite actors, so, only fair I end with some banter about one of my least favourite actresses (if you can call her that).

This is at the Covent Garden Odeon, and suggests that some opportunist under-15 year old kids are trying to sneak in, or try their luck with fake IDs in order to see Suicide Squad.

They'd do well to pay heed to the BBFC rating for Suicide Squad, tbh. Film was traumatising.

Cara Delevingne's twerking still gives me nightmares.

Bar review: DANDELYAN (South Bank)

Recipient of the 'World's Best Cocktail Menu' award, Dandelyan bar boasts some incredibly innovative drinks, all delicately crafted with the finest ingredients. 

I trialled four drinks, and whilst all  balanced delectable flavour with generous amounts of alcohol, the one I loved the most was Natural Born Gatherer, a refreshing and bittersweet drink that was decadently wonderful: the elderflower was the icing on the cake. 

The drink photographed above is the Old Fashioned, which is, admittedly difficult to get wrong, but Dandelyan produced an excellent one, and the citrus twist they added really have the drink an extra kick.

In terms of bar snacks, I had blistered padron peppers (deliciously marinated in sea salt and olive oil), and Mondrian chips, which came with some tastebud-tantalisingly good  mojo picón aioli. The key to bar snacks is to deliver them in small enough quantities to get the taster salivating for more, and salivating I most certainly was doing for the nibbles here.

Overall, Dandelyan bar oozes class. The atmosphere is chilled and the bar staff are astute and attentive. Whilst in terms of acres, it is not as spacious as Devonshire Terrace, it does have an intimate, yet classy ambiance that the former tried to manufacture, but generally lacked.

Definitely worth a visit for a mid-week post-work drink: the elegance of the decor (although the lights were a bit on the dim side) and the clientele allowed me to fulfil the delusion that I was a character in an episode of Mad Men. 

Speaking of pop culture references in bar reviews, the lady who served me looked like a petite version of Gal Gadot, and in addition to being cute A F, she was extremely switched on, and gave me some on point cocktail recommendations. Bravo, Dandelyan!

Grade: A

Outfit of the Day: Cowboy Chic.

Shirt: Hollister

Shorts: Oasis

Hoodie: GAP
Glasses: Twiggy for Aurora

Trainers: Adidas

It's possible I may play with my hair a bit too much. #DatNarcissism

Bonus photo: elegance in motion. Ahem.

I don't think the hottest cowboy of all time, aka Leonardo DiCaprio in The Quick and the Dead, needs to worry about a competitor to his title, haha

ohai!