We went early - i.e an hour before our reservation - to have a cocktail or two at the bar before dinner. The bar is fine, but has no liquor license, so no cocktails. So we had a bottle of wine and looked around at the not-too-convincing decor, an attempt to recreate the atmosphere of its 100-year old forbear, a denim and shirt factory (where they boxed their products, hence the name). Boxing Room looks closer to its immediate predecessor in that space, namely The Cake Factory.
Nevertheless, we had the interesting - and that's not a euphemism for "lousy" - fried alligator appetizer. Now, to call alligator - fried, raw, or curried for that matter - "appetizing" might sound like we starved for ten days before stepping in there. But surprise, surprise, it was tasty in its spicy sauce, and not at all alligator-ish. Mrs Page thought it tasted like fishy chicken, but as you know, I'm not exactly a fish fan and therefore would have detected any fishy taste.
After that enjoyable spell at the bar, we switched to our table and had the cochon du lait (slow roasted pork belly), with turnips, purple potato, and kale, and the duck and sausage jambalya, replete with crispy duck confit, andouille sausage, and brown rice.
I loved my jambalya, even though the duck wasn't the least bit crispy, while my lover had the "less successful" pork.
To cap the evening off, we retired close to home at Serpentine, where we had (basically, I attempted to get a spoon into the shared bowl of) the strawberry and blackcurrant crumble, while I glugged a whisky smash.
Basically, I drove halfway across the city, and we ate our way around the world. Nice.
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