Date of Last Visit: Wednesday, April 23
The Victim: Ben
The Damage: £20 each
The Background: A long time ago, I was in either Virgin Music or HMV…one of the ones by Piccadilly. I picked up a random CD by a random band called Cut Copy. I vaguely rememnber that there was a note on the CD saying that some band I liked (whose name escapes me) liked Cut Copy. So I bought the CD. And I fell in love.
Apparently, all of Australia is in love with Cut Copy too because at the Scala on April 23rd, you couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting an Aussie. (Dead cat swinging? Where did this come from?) And the next day, my colleague Andrew–an Aussie living and working in Chicago–noticed my Cut Copy Twitter and commented on his excessive jealousy. Cut Copy rocked the house, and the Scala is a good place to see a show. (Loved the sound-proof bar overlooking the floor.)
Anyhow, before any house-rocking got started, Ben and I had dinner at London Szechuan/Sichuan Snazz. Now I should mention that Ben is married, and in a three day period, I had dinner alone with two married men. (My friend Jason was in town from Swaziland on Friday and we had some nasal-passage-clearing wasabi rolls and assorted sushi at Life on Old Street on Friday night.) Man, I get around.
The Food: I like the food at Snazz. We had the ma po tofu, which was probably my favorite dish. And some green beans, which were nice and crispy with a little fire to them. And then some kung pao chicken, which was great as well. Very peanut-y, which I liked.
The Funny Bit: I ordered some tap water. Our server told me that she wasn't allowed to bring me tap water. I could only have bottled water. Now firstly, I think this is illegal. Secondly, she failed to realize that we were sitting right by the men's room, where there was lots and lots of tap water. Ben made about five trips to the men's room to fill up our beer glasses during the course of our meal. It was fantastically funny. To me, anyhow. Serves them right. Not allowed to serve tap water…give me a break!
Also, Snazz is up the road from a what might appear to be a tanning parlour. But it's so not a tanning parlour.
The Loos: Dirty, dirty, dirty.
The Verdict: I'll go back for the ma po tofu.
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