birthday BADass

Growing up, I never ever understood why my mother didn’t like her birthday. AT. ALL. In fact, she positively willed it to pass as painlessly as possible. And, year after year, I thought she was a bit of a spoilsport and a birthday-sort-of-Scrooge.

But this year I totally GET IT.

I’m currently mid stream, drifting through those in-between years.   Never one to shy away from a properly large, arms-above-ahead, party-popper celebration, the flashing disco lights of my 40th are but a mere memory and, while I’m vowing to re-invent the party wheel in time for the big 45 … this year… BLEUGH is just about the sum of how I feel.

So, mix all of the above self-indulgent pitiful woes with a pinch of ‘who might I offend if I don’t invite’ anxiety plus a massive dose of head cold exhaustion, you’ll understand why last Thursday (44 years to the day post entering this age-obsessed world) I just wanted to crawl under the covers and sleep… and sleep…. and sleep.

Of course, I put a brave face on it,  birthday badging up my jumper and leaping forth to reveal myself as The Birthday Boss.

Besides, this was always meant to be a restaurant review as I KNOW you’ll love Lurra (a hell of a lot more than your next birthday). Scooped up by two of my closests, the three of us lunch partied at this new Basque grill on Seymour Place.

lurra restaurant


sourdough with bone marrow.

(Maybe it’s my age) I always forget this street even exists. It’s that place of stillness which happens to lie between the tourist-mayhem of Marble Arch and the hectic chaos of Edgware Road. Yet another reason I love London; curiously remarkable as it unfolds.

courgette flower with cod brandada

courgette flower with cod brandada

Anyway we ate. REALLY well. And gulped pretty rosé too – while delighting in delicious gossip and silly, amusing tales that we never ever get around to sharing.

14 year Rubia Galena ‘Galician Blond’ Prime Rib, Grade 9. TO YOU + ME, AMAZING MEAT.

Of course there was a candle and a song too. I was having such a ball, I had even forgotten it was a birthday at all.

happy BADass day to me

happy day to me

But once back home, I rolled back into my big duvet and called it a day.





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