Planet Hollywood

Before any of you jokers say anything, I know, ok? I know.

How on earth can it be, I hear you ask, that someone as refined as me, someone with a palate touched by the very hand of the food-Gods, has come to dine in a place such as Planet Hollywood?

Like I said, I know.

Except, I don’t know. Why we went, that is.

Now, I want you to brace yourselves, I have something to tell you. As the entire world is aware, I am fabulously wealthy, and only pretend to be flat-broke so as not to alienate myself from you (as if I could!), the average Joe on the street.

Or Joe my part-time chauffeur.

Having said all that, Geraldine is not one to pass up a great offer and recently purchased a Tastecard through these marvellous people at Groupon. And would you ‘Adam and Eve’ it, Planet Hollywood offers Tastecard customers a 2for1 deal, excluding weekends.

I must admit, I haven’t been surrounded by that many celebrities – all personal friends of mine of course – since my 149^th birthday several years ago. But first, the food (that IS what you come here to read about, isn’t it?)

Where to start?

Ok, the starters. Onion rings, tender, not too greasy, ok I s’pose. Seafood sauce dip? Untouched.

Spicy chicken dippers, very meaty, crunchy spicy coating fair to middling, accompanying sauce (not sure what it was) left untouched. Shredded carrot ridiculous, practised our knot tying with it.

My chicken fajita main course was huge, it came with four (or was it five?) fajitas, I could barely manage three. Chicken was meaty and tender (not bad for a battery hen, poor thing), spicy rice was lovely – reminded me of a boil in the bag rice my mother cooked me when I was little – but the huge side of cheese was awful. I’m no cheese fan anyway, but this cold, grated gloop was not welcome on my plate, particularly when vying for space with my mayo and guacamole dips.

My wife’s ribs (insert your own wife rib joke here!) were apparently “meaty, sticky and very tasty, best I’ve had in ages” (insert your own wife best I’ve had in ages joke here). The children had burgers with fries, all apparently very good (looked good I have to say), followed by huge American sized desserts (sorry for lack of pic).

As you can see from the picture of my paper place mat (paper??), Arnie, Bruce and Sly very kindly printed pictures of all my Hollywood chums from way back when, as an apology for not being able to be there in person to say hello to me.

Bloody Americans, so unfriendly!

Still, who should show up right at the end of our forgettable meal, none other than Mr Bond himself, Sean Connery. I warned him that he shouldn’t really go around waving a Walther PPK at people anymore, not in the current climate, and certainly not the way the Arab spring is shaking out, but he remained uncharacteristically quiet, just sort of stood there, in Bond-pose.

He silently indicated that he is miffed that the Scottish independence thing is taking so long, but that’s hardly my fault now, is it? Personally, I think he’s still got a bee in his scots bonnet that Roger Moore was so terrific in The Spy Who Loved Me and that Carly Simon sang the theme tune for it.

I used to go out with her you know …….