We ate Vietnamese food and watched Miami Vice last night. The former was a disappointment, the latter was not. This came as a surprise.
The starters were fantastic - simple soups made with care. The mains, however, could have come from anywhere east of Calcutta and as such fell far short of the high expectations the soup and word-of-mouth had brought for the cuisine. This could have been our fault. Sam and I may have ordered badly. But I think it may have been a case of dumbing down the menu to a tad to get those nervous about trying new cuisine to feel at ease. It's understandable from a commercial standpoint, but frustrating. The result is that Chinese, Thai, Japanese and now Vietnamese blend into one. You've got to be lucky enough to find, or in the know enough to know, the best; those that stay true to their food, with little or no pandering to the nervous westerner. I say this with a small amount of hypocrisy - I'm not a big fan of chicken feet.
Miami Vice was excellent - genuinely gripping and beautifully shot. The love story was difficult to swallow though, looking slightly extraneous. And it's disheartening to see that, even with a mullet and porn star mustache, Colin Farrell can pull.