August 23rd, 2009
Party Tea at The Lansdowne
So, last night my husband Darren and I went along to a 30th birthday party in the Lansdowne Bar and Kitchen (”LBK to all the regulars” is the slightly geeky term I just read on their website), just off Great Western Road in Glasgow. I have had a long-running soft-spot for the Lansdowne as it’s such a rare pearl in an ocean of G1-Group sameness. From the welcoming beacon of fairy lights guiding you down the little steps to the entrance, to the relaxed, not-too-crowded vibe inside and funky music at a volume that allows decent conversation and catching-up with friends only a few decibels above normal speech (does this mean I’m getting old?!)
Anyway, I’ve not been for such a long time seeing as I no longer live across the road, down the street and round the corner, within easy reach of the weekend brunch platter that was a firm Sunday favourite for many a year. Hell, I don’t even know if they still do this delish dish, but if not, then I’m sure there is an equally tempting selection in its place.
So last night, we rocked up around 8.30ish and the party was in full swing, in a little reserved section with balloons and candles and cake ahoy. My dilemma was that with my new health regime (for medical rather than cosmetic reasons I must point out), meant I wasn’t going to be drinking alcohol, but also cannot have carbonated drinks or any kind of sugar including natural sugar from fruit juice. This significantly lowered my choice and I was panicking that a glass of tap water with a slice of lemon would be as exotic as I could get. I’m so glad I was wrong!
Waiting for me at the bar was a little green menu which could have been the cocktail list, but instead was a tea menu for Big Man Tea reminiscent of Tchai Ovna, the teahouse on Otago Lane. At once thrilled beyond belief and sweating with excitement, I flicked through and dove right in ordering the ‘White Peony Tea’. It duly arrived in the cutest little glass teapot I’ve ever seen with an elegant spout and all the loose tea swirling around in the bottom. My cup was like a miniature fish bowl that fitted neatly on top of the teapot, and I was delighted with my party drink. The bar guy helpfully said I could pop back for a free refill of hot water too, which I did, and I’m just kicking myself now for not taking a little pic to post up and share.
Sitting on little leather cubes and chatting with the girls about films, writing, acting, make-up and health debacles, it felt great to sit with my sweet little fish-bowl and sip delicately, watching a few drunken pint-drinkers stumble by. I wouldn’t say I felt smug, because I hope to enjoy my fair share of pints, wine, spirits, shots alike in the future, but at that moment in time I felt content that there was a smart alternative to tap water to make a night out not drinking alcohol still a fun and special occasion.
I wouldn’t say the night went without a hitch however, as once I was on to my third teapot - ‘Dragon Well Tea’ - I abandoned the first on the main table. Innocently it sat there until in the flurry of the clapping, candle-blowing-out and hip-hip-hooraying, it got knocked off its perch and smashed to the floor. It wasn’t me who did it, but I felt partly responsible for its fate. Sorry teapot. Sorry Lansdowne.
The moral of this story is drink responsibly, and take your empties back to the bar. Especially if they are really unusual or delicate. And rejoice that if you cannot drink alcohol for whatever reason: medication, religion, pregnancy, designated driver, health or simply through preference, then bars like the Lansdowne are a haven.
I wish more bars would adopt this philosophy, because it can’t just be me who wants to drink tea on a night out? Even after the greatest night of drinking in the past, I have often come to the point of just wanting a nice hot cuppa and a slice of toast! Perversely, if more places cottoned on to this idea, it may in turn stop people leaving prematurely for home or a kebab-shop-stop, and be enough of a boost to keep them partying the rest of the night.
Therefore another place that gets my vote is The Flying Duck on Renfield Street, city centre. They have a kitchen where you can get tea and toast and it’s actually a club - how cool is that? I know this as I attended Duckstock 09 last week (peddling my wares) and facing the same dilemma of ‘what can I have to drink in this place’ I spotted someone with a mug of tea. When I enquired at the bar and was asked if I wanted a cup, I politely asked if I could just have boiling water and a slice of lemon, and they were kind enough to oblige. Water also happens to be free, so although finances weren’t my main concern, the tea/water option is a rather credit-crunch-busting way of enjoying a night out! No hangover either. On that count I am rather smug. Very smug in fact.
