spotted, and tried: the seven stars, 53 carey street, london Tweet

I had been to The Seven Stars pub before, though it seems ages ago. Part of the problem is that we seem to reach Roxy Beaujolais's other establishment more often, The Bountiful Cow. Both places serve lovely beer and delicious food, without any claim at being some trendy, dreaded gastropub. Tonight I couldn't stop eating these delicious linguine with mushrooms and truffle oil, possibly because there were no three-drops-of-truffle-oil sprinkled carefully on the top (as most restaurants would have it), but a strong suggestion that the pasta had been tossed with a generous serving of it.

linguine with mushrooms and truffle oil, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

People came and went, rising a pint (of the many original options) to Monica and Nico for becoming British citizens, and while stories of terrible Chilean earthquakes and shooting a drug documentary in Afghanistan kept me starry eyed, I could not say no to the resident tomcat once it made its appearance (Roxy always has cats around, as far as I can tell). Sorry I didn't catch its name. Not sorry I didn't catch its claws—according to the Frank Sinatra lookalike bartender, the cat was a) angry that patrons were leaving and b) disliking cameras incredibly. Same bartender struck a conversation just like that, in the telltale old school manner presumed of bartenders: could I believe the incredible photo he had seen the other day? Frank Sinatra on John Wayne's veranda, while the latter tended to his bonsai trees. Need more reasons to spend a great evening at The Seven Stars?

black cat, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.