Word reaches me on the millionaires' grapevine that Ramsgate's newest, super-duperest restaurant is having one or two, er, teething troubles. My spy tells me that, having ordered a coffee and cheesecake, he deemed the aforementioned comestible to be off, and a waiter was duly summoned.
'I'll 'ave to git the sheff,' muttered the waiter. Sure enough, the sheff appeared in less than white whites to give his verdict. 'Nah, not possible,' he assured the customer. And to prove the point, dragged a couple of digits over the offending dessert. Having given the fingers a good lick for certainty, he confirmed his diagnosis. 'Nah, nuffin' rong wiv that.' At which juncture the rather stunned customer was left to get on with his pud.
Hmmm. Now, whilst we will have to consign this very firmly to the rumour file as I only heard it secondhand, it does suggest the place still has a certain amount of bedding in to do. My old jungle chum JBR's other restaurants are excellent, so I think I'll have to pay the place a visit soon to make up my own mind. After all, the proof of the pudding is whether it's finger-lickin' good!