Mirinda and Bob took the girls to West Wittering while I pottered around the house.
In the evening we went to Karen & Nigel’s for their first Wimbledon dinner party. A lot of style, as you’d expect from Karen, which looked great. Square plates in white with red place mats.
Nigel made a prawn and avocado tower for entree which was totally yum. Stroganoff for main which I thought was lovely but Claire thought it a bit bland.
Dessert was the usual chocolate mousse except he’d made a strawberry ‘surprise’ for me. The top was far too rich and the base far too bland. He asked me what I thought so I told him. Bob and Claire were quite shocked by my honesty. Mirinda said I was too blunt.
Poor Nigel was very stressed and asked me how I managed to appear cool and in control when I cooked for guests. Mirinda reminded him that I was an actor.
Claire called him Neville at one stage and Bob called him Lionel…which didn’t help things. I said he’d killed Neville, which he vehemently denied.
He was really nice all night and took the abuse like a man.
