The Tate Modern Restaurant

After frantically working all day on a last minute transcribing job, i was soooo ready to go to dinner... Oh wait, no i wasn't. I was FREAKING OUT.

I didn't quite realise how much until i arrived at the Tate members room and had to speak to people i didn't know, and then i turned to James and was like "oh my god, i'm hot James, are you hot? i'm really hot. its hot isn't it?" He told me to take some deep breaths or whatever other useless crap loving boyfriends say to you when you're going to have a panic attack and then i yelled at him at him in the elevator for asking me a simple question of calling the man i was suppose to meet. (Sorry James, think he might find it amusing now)

The truth is, i didn't have a fucking clue what i was doing. It was all well and good emailing the manager, i'm well good at talking via typing, but to approach him? As someone of relative importance to the evening? What the fuck man.
Anyway, i told myself to grow some mega balls and just get on with it, so i went up to the lady and was like " Hello i'm Sophie Edwards from the Arcadia Online, i'm expected at 6pm for a review" And then TRIED to pronounce the managers name. Which i didn't do well.

She was obviously super nice if not a bit dubious, and left to confirm with people. I was so embarrassed because James was there too, hearing me talk all professional and what not. God. Im re-living it right now.
She came back and said yeah mate all good and told me to go through. (Not in those exact words)
So i went through, i was like cool, hurdle over, lets do this. I was wrong.
I stood waiting to be "served" i think? And James was like Soph, you know i can just get us some coffee and pay if its easier... obviously sensing more of a freak out on my face. I told him not to worry but im pretty sure my eyes thanked him for his kindness anyway.

A man then asked me what i would like, and i asked for another man with a different name i couldn't pronounce. Then the guy next to him (Who looks like Alceed from true blood - just sayin') told me how to actually pronounce it and then looked at me in a smoldery way before leaving. Oh, okay then.

Then a lady who i had never seen before came up to me and greeted me. Said the managers would be down shortly and would i like any coffee or tea. I was like oh my god yes.
I knew i was there for a coffee and members room review so i knew i should of drank the coffee you know? Like not get wine or something. But i panicked and got an espresso. I cant deal with them, they taste like marmite. James got a flat white and then swapped it with me.

I love it when people come in and like you kinda know its obviously them who you're waiting for but they have no idea who you are, because you just look like everyone else. I flashed one of them a smile but he looked a bit uneasy before confirming with the lady that it was me, and then smiled back. Ha!
They were both lovely.

After the manager gave me a quick brief on the evening, introduced me to the coffee expert (I don't know his professional title) told me to enjoy the members room and that the staff know im not paying, he left.
Not paying freaks me out. Like, what. I felt like a celebrity. And i really wanted a cake but i didn't dare say so. So i sipped on James flat white a bit more and spoke to the coffee expert about.. well coffee. He told me all about how it was made and about how the Tate have everything as close to fresh and locally sourced as possible - im fully into that. And he then invited me to Tate Britain to see the rotisserie and talk me through it - how exciting.

I was fully aware James was sat next to me and it was so awks. Because he was like, so what questions do you want to ask me?! And i was under the impression HE would be asking ME questions. But anyway, i tried to relax and came up with a better piece of writing to combine the Tate coffee and the members room together. He seemed pleased with that, then he left us to it.

James and I should of definitely discussed coffee or the members room or something but we both just spoke about how he had big blue eyes and James had a man crush on him. Solid.
We had 2 hours to kill until dinner, so i suggested we went to go and see the Sigma Polke again, it was only James's 279374 time.

Its so interesting going to a gallery AGAIN. You see so many things you missed before. I guess the first time i was busy fluffling about the piece was writing and this time i got to enjoy it more. It was nice.
My stomach started to burn (from what i now know was anxiety) and i started to freak out as it got closer.
What if i had to pay for dinner and i didn't know?
What if i have to pay for drinks?
OH MY GOD I HAVE TO USE A KNIFE AND FORK IN PUBLIC!!!

I started to feel super ill. I forgot all about being a bad public eater. And the fact that my diet mainly consists of noodles, houmous and pitta. Fuck.

As we were leaving, a nice lady stopped us and asked us if we wouldn't mind answering some questions on the Sigmar Polke. James said no not at all, i had other ideas. We ended up following her down to this random room with no windows, and on the table was a plate of biscuits (Sinister plate of biscuits as James described them, ha!)  We were offered tea or coffee but i wasn't in the mood to be doing anything MORE stressful. We sat down anyway and i relaxed a bit. I felt bad for her because i know how hard market research is, let alone getting people to follow you into a room, so i tried not to let my previous freaking out be taken out on her. We all had a nice chat. James whacked out his art knowledge and posh opinions which is totes sexy and i just said stuff like " I think its well good, i like the pictures in the leaflets". In my defense, I did tell her i didn't have a valid opinion, having only been to that exhibition ever, but she still wanted to know it.

I told her i hoped she has a nice rest of the night and that it wouldn't be too difficult and explained how i used to be in market research. Then she took my number incase a job came up! #hustler

I noticed at this point my stomach had stopped hurting, so it must of been emotional. I've never had an emotional tummy before. It needs to pipe down. We went upstairs to the restaurant and i started freaking out quietly again. Urgh.
We went in to the dinner check in table thing, and the manager greeted me to say our table was being prepared. James whispered in my ear "We get a window seat because you're press..." And i was like WHAT!
Well good!

We were seated and given menus, some bread and delicious water. Yes, water can be delicious. Either that or i'm just now use to the cocaine, birth control infested London tap.
Our waitress was a babe. She was so lovely and had a mesmerizing accent. Where do the Tate get these people from?!

We ordered our starters and our mains, and thankfully she offered us wine. I don't know why but i didn't want to be like, give me wine now please. James told me to relax, and that it was there job to impress me, not the other way around. But i didn't like it. It made me feel sad. The manager said about how it was usually busier but because it was January the atmosphere was quiet, like in an apologetic way. I just wanted to give him a cuddle and be like, it's not your fault people cant buy delicious food just yet!

Its so weird people making me feel like a princess. I'm just little Soph. Which, admittedly, came out throughout the evening when i started saying mate and well good to our waitress.

My starter was fucking top notch. I had herb crusted goats cheese, candied beetroot, wild watercress and grapefruit, paired with a white wine. I don't usually drink white, like at all, which i shouted loudly and James told me off for. But i was just saying how delicious it was. Like not all white wine tastes like vinegar... who knew?
The dressing was well nice - i don't know what it was but i fully mopped it up with my bread.

My main was cod, in a cockle and clam broth with chive mash. Holy. Ball. Sack. I think this was the best fish dish i have ever had. The broth was more like a rich creamy sauce but it wasn't fishy at all, if you get me. I had never tried cockles before and they were like eyeballs, which i think my waitress over heard because she came over to ask if everything was okay. I ate them all up anyway, cos you know, they came in SHELLS. IN MY BOWL.
The cod was cooked to perfection. Like literally. The skin was crispy and delicate on top and the fish was moist. Oh my god i am well hungry thinking about it now.

I had another white with that as the cool thing (and probably common in posh restaurants but what do i know) is that they pair up wine with meals. So to get the full experience, i didn't have my go -to red wine but tried out all the recommended drinks instead and i'm super glad i did.

I was starting to get full at this point but like i totally had to have pudding right?
I took this little break for desert to take some pictures, past the point of minding that i was embarrassing James.

My pudding was vanilla mascarpone, hazelnut cake with creme fraiche and poached apple slices, washed down with an organic cherry beer.
So. Good.

I was almost definitely struggling to move at this point and we both knew it was time to go home and do a lot of lying down. I thanked the manager and my waitress for having me. It was awesome.