Our Terrace is Back (and a late night 'ramble' with Dr Johnson)
The Stoops Terrace is now Open
I will praise the English climate till I die — even if I die of the English climate. There is no weather so good as English weather. Nay, in a real sense there is no weather at all anywhere but in England.
GK Chesterton, Alarms & Discursions 1910
We've definitely had some weather with a capital W this year - I believe the poor Cornish have had the wettest start to the year on record and us Londoners have fared little better. But if the Beeb is to be believed this weekend and indeed next week are set fair, just in time for the annual launch of our summer terrace.
We do not take bookings on the terrace - it's first come, first served - but those with a booking indoors will be given first priority on arrival. Remarkably, both the bar and dining room menus are available outdoors. And naturally we welcome the great British all-weather drinker also.
Set Menu w/c 20/04
2 Courses £20 3 Courses £25
Lentil Harira
Roast chicken rice, leeks, wild garlic
or
Tallarini, purple sprouting broccoli, chilli
Coffee granita
PUB QUOTE Up All Night in the Taverns with Dr Johnson (likely 1752)
One night when Beauclerk and Langton had supped at a tavern in London, and sat till about three in the morning, it came into their heads to go and knock up Johnson, and see if they could prevail on him to join them in a ramble.
They rapped violently at the door of his chambers in the Temple, till at last he appeared in his shirt, with his little black wig on the top of his head, instead of a nightcap, and a poker in his hand, imagining, probably, that some ruffians were coming to attack him. When he discovered who they were, and was told their errand, he smiled, and with great good humour agreed to their proposal: 'What, is it you, you dogs! I'll have a frisk with you.'
He was soon drest, and they sallied forth together into Covent-Garden, where the greengrocers and fruiterers were beginning to arrange their hampers, before repairing to one of the neighbouring taverns, and made a bowl of that liquor called Bishop, which Johnson had always liked...
They did not stay long, but walked down to the Thames, took a boat, and rowed to Billingsgate. Beauclerk and Johnson were so well pleased with their amusement, that they resolved to persevere in dissipation for the rest of the day: but Langton deserted them, being engaged to breakfast with some young Ladies. Johnson scolded him for 'leaving his social friends, to go and sit with a set of wretched UN-IDEA'D girls.' Garrick being told of this ramble, said to him smartly, 'I heard of your frolick t'other night. You'll be in the Chronicle.' Upon which Johnson afterwards observed, 'HE durst not do such a thing. His WIFE would not LET him!'James Boswell, The Life of Johnson
