I never thought I truly understood what it meant to 'gorge' oneself, images of an old Roman gladiator banquet spring to mind, but that doesn't seem like a nice way to spend one's evening.
However, I have understood a more newer, modern term for this word –St Katherine's. The new endeavour by a trio of celebrity chefs, it has already been wowing the critics and public alike at their stylish Kew address.
What looks reminiscent of a medieval banquet hall (but much cleaner and welcoming), this humble restaurant is awash with simplicity and style, from the small intimate 'date' tables to the more social communal tables.
In order to 'gorge' oneself well, we have opted for the supreme banquet of 6 courses. Six decadent courses of cuisines sourced from the Greek. Turkish Maltese influences of the kitchen. As we ploughed our way through the first three courses (delicious cured fish, corn and poached chicken, yoghurt soup with charred lamb and burnt butter, rabbit croquettes-yum) we feel our resolve start to wan and the speed at which we are feasting has dropped a gear.
Our deliciously entertaining waiter has delighted in our appetites thus far, and so as not to disappoint we declare our stomachs ready for more (at our own risk).
A selection of mini burgers (the 'moistest' chicken burger a dining friend declares) are bursting with flavours of Greek spices, so too are the pides (a fight ensues over the last piece of fig and goats cheese, of which I'm proud to say I won).
If we thought we were done by then we certainly weren't, a few sips more of a delicious Mornington Peninsula Pinot Noir (Eldridge Estate 2009 I believe, perfect for the meal) and we were thus ready for our 'main dish'.
I couldn't tell if it was tears of delight or from the feeling of my stomach lining stretching, but the sight of the more delicious steak took my breath away.
Sitting on a carrot puree bed (with a delicious hint of wasabi) was the more tender, slightly rare and juicy steak I have ever had the pleasure to set my fork upon.
Our chef thus informs us he has some steak left over should we wish to partake in more, but alas, there is just no more room. I think I wept at the thought of leaving that steak behind (ahh I wish doggy bags were still available).
The final piece de resistance to the night is the illustrious dessert course.
Having heard about the infamous gourmet version "Mr Whippy" (yes, just like Mr Whippy soft serve when you were a kid, but dressed up in an elegant fashion) we were eagerly assured he would arrive in our banquet dish, and his friends were just as appetising –saffron lemon curd, peanut butter parfait (supreme decadence) all topped off with a tub of salted caramel Mr Whippy. Pure indulgence!