“I dined at La Bodega Negra the night after Kylie Minogue was seen exiting not so discretely”
I’m rarely seen at the right places or attend the right parties but last night I dined at La Bodega Negra the night after Kylie Minogue was seen exiting not so discretely. Candy insisted we dine there not just so I could bathe in the waft of Miss Minogue but because she thought I might enjoy a restaurant disguised as a striptease bar. She was right. We meekly entered and were greeted by a Clockwork Orange ringmaster. I knew immediately this was place was high concept low carbs. The carcass of a piano and a tiny proscenium arch (perhaps where Kylie did a number the night before) made a former basement look like the deluge of a post-apocalyptic circus on the run. The waitress was sharply beautiful and tantalisingly non-committal allowing us to decide if the miniature tacos displayed on a charred wooden rack were going to be enough. And just as the striptease once eased into the private lap dance, the tacos fell short of hitting the spot. Appetites whet, we ordered Fresh Crab Tostaditas, Seafood Rice Cazuela and another rack of tacos. The creamy Cazuela was more risotto than soup with cheeky capers stirred though. We fought over the last grain of rice, no love lost deep in boutique tapas. Intoxicated by ghosts we dug up stories of our past, remembering the infamous pole dancing mother and our own performances entangled in a spider’s web made of chains.