Forty for forty

There comes a time in every lady’s life when she approaches a birthday with a zero in it. Social convention dictates you should shy away from this, laughingly claim to be 21 again, resort to makeovers and lies to hide the shocking fact of your age.

I am forced to admit, darling reader, that when I started to think of my forthcoming birthday I felt mostly shame. Shame at being so old in a culture that prizes youth. Shame.

This lasted all of about twenty minutes until I worked out what I was feeling and why, whereupon it transformed to something a lot more rageful.

Why should I feel shame because of my age? I have survived a lot to get here and I am proud of who I am now. More importantly, I like the person I am now.

So, I have no shame in saying: I turned 39 this week, and am already plotting for when I turn 40 next year.

Of course, accepting this gives rise to the question: how should one celebrate such a momentous event? I mean, given the number of times over the years I thought I would never get here, the event deserves a damn fine celebration.

I could have a party, of course. Hire a venue and collect my friends around me. But I have no particular fondness for large social gatherings. I would much rather have dinner with friends – and there are so many places that I am longing to eat at.

And this thought, my dears, gave rise to the idea: to eat at forty notable restaurants in the year to either side of my birthday, and to do so with my friends and the people I love most in the world.

I’ve already made a start – even if I cheated slightly and started a little early. I have been to Story, Dinner, and Trishna, and I will review those over the next few days, and I have a list of 26 or so more places I want to go. However, this leaves another 14 spaces, so I will throw this out there. Is there anywhere you think I should go? Where would you go if you had the chance? And who would you go with? And do you prefer to celebrate birthdays? Or do you hide from the aging process?

Breaking News: We Aren't Dead

Darling readers, you may have noticed some radio silence from the Good Ship Illustrated London Noms.  Do not panic, for we have not capsized nor been lured by sirens (well, any more than usual) and both myself and Ms Peas have been unaffected by the riots that have gripped London and the counties in the past weeks.

You see, last month I accompanied my dear Mr Apple on a trip to his homeland, exploring the delights of Nippon (and, of course, nomming everything in sight).  Rest assured I had my daguerreotype and numerous plates on hand to record the finest delights I encountered, and will be recounting some of those here when everything calms down.

And as for Ms Peas?  Well, rumour has it in my absence she eloped from the Shires to a select theatrical gathering along with Mr Green and Ms Dasher.  Of course, I am not one to listen to rumour in general (it having been so cruel to me in the past), but in this case I suspect it may very well be right.  Especially the part about colourful drinks made with flaming sambuccas, discussions on the gold standard, and Scottish thespians in revealing skirts.

In any case, normal Illustrated London Noms service will resume shortly.  And in the meantime, I suggest you amuse yourselves in whatever way pleases you most (though do try not to cause too much of a scandal while doing so…)

Yours, J Carrot (Esq)