The first part of Day Three started at work, but I could make it through the day because I had BFF, Burgers and Bitching waiting for me in London.
BFF and I met at Covent Garden where I marched him down to the Shake Shack. I’ve wanted to try this place since it opened a couple of months ago – being an Americanophile, I’ve watched with interest as American burger places have starting making their way over here but wanted to wait until the queues died down before trying the Shake Shack.
There are a lot of whingy Brits complaining all over the internet about the Shake Shack, and I think they’re just being horrible snobs for the sake of it. No, it’s not fine dining, but neither does it promise to be. I genuinely loved the food, and thought the location was great.
First of all, you queue up to order. I went for the Shack Burger, Fries, and a coke. BFF (or Jim as he was later called) had the Shack Stack, Cheese Fries, and coke. In hindsight, it was quite a lot of cheese. They take your name and give you a buzzer to let you know when it’s ready, so you can then go over and find a table. Monday seemed a good night to go as there was plenty of free tables. I think it could be quite chaotic on a weekend.
Whilst we waited, I got to open my present which was AMAZING. He’d made a book of one of our in jokes and it looks so ridiculously professional. I showed husband when I got home and he giggled away to himself. Check all good book stores at Christmas for an ideal Christmas stocking filler.
And then the buzzers went off, and it was time to collect our food from the food hatch.
I really liked the food, particularly the fries, and was happily full at the end of it. Ignore all the snobs and haters and give it a go. As it was relatively quiet (other than the opera singer in Covent Garden), we were able to hold on to our table after we’d finished, so we kept chatting for a bit (see above re: Bitching), before I got some Concrete bought for me as a birthday treat.
Shack Shake Concrete is a dense frozen custard and we both went for the Union Shake – Chocolatey brownie yumminess. As much as I loved the concrete, I couldn’t actually taste that much difference between this and ice cream, although my taste buds aren’t that great. I think it was good we ordered this much later, as it probably would have melted whilst we ate the burgers.
Tim’s bullet points from the meal were:
- Too many staff and it was creepy when they called you by your name (I don’t agree with the second point)
- Messy custard presentation which ended up everywhere (yeah, true)
- The buzzer frightened him when it went off in his hand
Other than that, I think he enjoyed it.
We finished much earlier than I thought, so after we were kicked out of a closing Paperchase, we wandered about for a bit, peering in the Tatty Devine window and being harassed by a shop assistant outside of a Dead Sea soap shop. Tim then yelled “Décolletage” at an Agatha Christie sculpture like a french hooligan, we spontaneously fist pumped when he helped a lost tourist find the Foyles which made us both snort with laughter, and a decision was made to walk over to the South Bank.
The South Bank was quiet, so we quickly nipped into the Foyles to soak in the book atmosphere and think about where our book would fit in their shop.
I became determined that I would go in my favourite lift on my Bonanza – the Singing Lift in the Royal Festival Hall, but I had completely forgotten how to get there. I ended up dragging Tim all round the South Bank trying to get to the bloody entrance coming across some incredibly random structures.
And then I found my beloved lift.
This may look like an ordinary lift…
We went up to the top floor, then down to the bottom, then back up to the second, with it singing to us all the way. It might be one of the only lifts in the world that tweets.
Then this happened.
I don’t really know what this was about – I didn’t actually read the text. But Tim did manage to make this poor woman make the most awful face.
The evening ended at Waterloo station with me confusedly asking Tim if he remembered that time we were in Argentina (I don’t think either of us have been) before he packed me onto the train home.
Three days for a Birthday Bonanza is pretty good going at my age, as is two burgers in three days.