". . . . I'll have the liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti."
The last night in London, we decided to eat at our favorite little restaurant in Piccadilly. We first found it on our honeymoon and we frequent it each time we are there. I can never, ever remember the name of the place--I always call it Le Steak or Handley's, don't ask me where Handley's came from, I dunno. (Its actual name is Rowley's.) The first time we ate there, in 1987, I only remember one item on the menu, steak with fries. This is why we call it Le Steak. The hub has even perfected the recipe and cooks it several times a year for us.
When we arrived, we walked in and it was like an oven in there! So very hot. I was very surprised they didn't open the door or something. At any rate, they put us at the first table in front of the door which seemed like the best seat in the house that night. Each time it opened, we all took a breath of fresh air (bloody Americans). They later did turn on the fan and it cooled off quite nicely. It is a beautiful, little intimate restaurant. The walls are covered in art nouveau tiles and it is just as quaint as can be.
The hub faced the door and the kid and I faced inward towards the back of the restaurant. There, at the second table in, right behind us, was a rather distinguished looking English gentleman having dinner with his wife (I presume). Throughout dinner, we would exchange glances and he began to look farmilar to me. Those pearcing blue eyes were as clear and bright as if he were sitting right next to me. It finally dawned on me that this was Sir Anthony Hopkins himself. I'm so glad I didn't figure it out any earlier because I would have then been self conscious looking at him. This way, I merely enjoyed his handsomeness unbeknownst as to who he was. As I said, those eyes.....oh my. His silver hair was cropped shorter than I had seen it in pictures and he was dressed impeccably English. As we finished our dessert (tri-colored chocolate mousse), he and his companion got up to leave. As he turned to put on his raincoat, I whispered to the hub who I thought was behind him and to check out the door in a second. I was still a little doubtful this was him until the owner rushed over to open the door for them.
P.S. The owner did not open the door for us! (And we did order Le Steak, as we always do.)
2 comments:
How cool is that? I think you're lucky though, that he didn't eat your face off. ;-) Once I was in Manzanillo, Mexico at a hotel called Las Hadas (featured in the Dudley Moore film "10") and I heard a laugh that sounded quite familiar. When I looked over at the next table, (we were on the deck to the pool) there sat Richard Dreyfuss. My dad kept pestering me to go ask for his autograph. But the movie "What About Bob" was out and I knew how upset he got when his vacation was interrupted. LOL
Shelley! So glad you're back! Funny about Richard Dreyfuss. I saw him on the street of NYC last winter and it was a very strange moment. As I told my teenager, it was as if he "glowed" or "shone" when our eyes met in that brief second. The teenager thinks it has something to do with me growing up in the 60s, grin. But it, indeed, was a very special feeling. Strange, huh? (I am always hesitant to ask for an autograph too, for whatever reason.)
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