Haute Dogs
As corporate entertainment goes, cooking should surely be there with corporate ironing, washing, changing the bed or any other remedial household chore. But this is the noughties and cooking is cool. Celebrity chefs are the new rock stars don’t-you-fucking-know?
Birddog’s finger is on the pulse of cool (honestly, have you seen Scot’s shirts?), and under the theme of ‘The C-Word’ (a bit like ‘The F Word’, but ruder…) it was time for the Birddog gents and a few selected friends to hit the saucepans.
All of the most coveted things in this word are Italian, and food is no exception. La Cucina Caldesi is one of the finest purveyors of Italian food in London and conveniently, they run a cookery school too.
On the whole the talent of the group could only be compared to that of Gordon Ramsey. Onions were f•cking-well chopped, tomatoes had their f•cking insides taken out, mixed with some other sh*t and put back in, the pits were taken out of the olives by some c@nt or other and everyone made some f•cking pasta as a veritable feast was prepared under the watchful eye of the lovely Carolina.
The wine was good, the tutors were charmed and the food was eaten. Which was unfortunate as it was a lot and we still had to eat dinner…
Those who stayed embraced the true essence of being chefs and drank until no-more could be drunk, put the world to rights and danced the streets of Marylebone dressed in aprons. Everyone else went home to bed and felt better for it in the morning. P•ssys…
