Having a Glove Lunch in NYC in an identical booth to the one in Carol except lunch is actually late night munchies at 11pm and creamed spinach is actually nachos and wings. But don’t panic, we classing it up with wine so it’s Carol approved.

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Having a Glove Lunch in NYC in an identical booth to the one in Carol except lunch is actually late night munchies at 11pm and creamed spinach is actually nachos and wings. But don’t panic, we classing it up with wine so it’s Carol approved.
I can’t believe I forgot December 21 a.k.a the Glove Lunch!
flung from space
Dearest, it's December and that means
the season of viewing Carol in loops has commenced
Forever wishing that Carol.2015 will walk through my door at work
You: "Carol" (2015)
Me, an intellectual: "Glove Lunch"
forgive me...
Today me and @quietroomineedyounow went for a glove lunch, yes, a GLOVE LUNCH. This is a lol story of our glove lunch.
We went to Brasserie Zedel, an old school fancy French restaurant in Piccadilly. Excellent glove lunch setting, it has chandeliers and swanky table settings and lamps and red velvet (I know not leather, but still felt Carol-ish) seats.
Poached eggs and creamed spinach wasn’t on the menu but they kindly made it for us anyway. Maybe they get glove lunchers all the time… Asking for a dry martini with an olive might have taken it a bit far so we made do with the French martinis on the menu.
The Food was great, omg creamed spinach is amazing. Me and mate had a jolly time attempting to recite the whole lunch scene when suddenly Miriam Margolyes APPEARS. (She was there the whole time I just didn’t notice) She is jolly and small!!!! I get so over excited I laugh, cry, go red and hide under a napkin. Mate laughs at me. Our glove lunch is taken to a whole new level. Miriam goes to sit down again with a gal pal at her table.
We order a creme brûlée to share for dessert. Un-Carol but yum. Our bill paying and departure is perfectly timed to coincide with Miriam and friend’s exit. I decide it would be too obvs and awk if we followed her and her pal into the lift so we slither into the bathroom and celebrate the success of glove lunch by weeing.
The end.