It was one of my lovely flatmates' birthday last Saturday, so we went out for dinner in Sur, a restaurant and bar in WeHo. It has the dubious claim to fame of being the domain of one of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. (The English one, with the dogs and the ex-live-in-Cedric). The whole place is quite impossibly LA - white linen everywhere, chandeliers, FAR too many mirrors for an eatery - unless, of course the clientele are more likely to look at themselves than actually eat anything... - random ethnic art. Think Buddha-Bar, via Marrakech, via Paris...
There were rose petals and flickering candles throughout, and when a bizarre party of young Asian people with one dodgy-looking white dude stayed at 'our' table too long, they swiftly magicked up a new one for us, out on the non-patio patio area. We all squeezed in and started perusing the ENORMOUS menus. A very nice bottle of prosecco came quickly, but water was rather harder to come by. For all that, the staff were very good to us. A legion of gym-prepped, beautiful people who make up in beauty what they lack in smarts.
I ordered the lamb, which was amazingly prepared and presented. For some reason I thought I'd be virtuous so I didn't actually get fries with it - I had broccoli and mashed potatoes - but it was all really good. For dessert a display of delicious cupcakes and a flare had been prepared for the birthday boy. Very chic, obviously. Less chic - but far more LA - is the fact that during our meal that doyenne of class, sophistication and erudition, Snooki de JerseyShore, showed up for dinner. Like many of the clientele in this rather dark, low-lit emporium, she never took her sunglasses off.
Afterwards we went to a rather famous club up the street. All of our party were carded, with the exception of the birthday boy and yours truly, who were waved in with a bored nod from the bouncer. Obviously we are now over the hill.
Happy Birthday!
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