I am reminded of a visit I had last year to Los Zarzales with my Cousin Camilla. She's a little bit stony faced on your first meeting but once you get to know her she's a great laugh and has a heart of gold. Often unlucky in love she had just been jilted by yet another beau and we were dressed up ready to do the town and to try and drown her sorrows. A classy gal she was schooled at the Royal Masonic, Chorleywood and like most debutantes had been schooled in the culinary arts to a very high standard. As usual we chose Los Zarzales because of the high quality of food and service. Christian is an excellent chef and Yolanda provides a magnificent front of house no matter who walks through the door !! We both started with the Frito, a mallorquin delicacy and favourite of ours which we would recommend to anyone. ( I think this keeps me well on thread which is more than can be send for most of which has gone before !!) As we tucked in I heard Camilla gasp under her breath 'Oh my God' at which point she turned to me with a face of great anguish and said 'the man of my dreams has just walked in'. She sighed ' he's the rafish rugged type and looks like a cross between Mickey Rourke and Lee Van Cleef ( this apparently was supposed to be a good thing but I couldn't help thinking that one was tending to fat and the other anorexia, the combination of which was mind boggling). I groaned as this highlighted poor Camillas one weakness. On leaving the Masonic she had of course gone to Cambridge but got mixed up with a bunch of Trotskyists ( only joined in the first place because she loved Gymkhanas and thought they were horse lovers !!) and ended up toe to toe with the beloved Arthur on the miners picket outside Saltley Gate in Birmingham during the 1980's. I think it was at this time in her life that she developed the penchant for a bit of rough !! Which brings me back to Los Zarzales. The man of her dreams was one of the worst examples of the type I had seen her fall for over the last few years. He bowled into the restaurant full of that false bonhomie that one can only associate with the short wearing, English working classes who believe every venue is a football stadium shouting out to the waiters at the top of his voice . I'm sure he thought the shorts were of a reasonably smart standard but frankly England written over the backside and kiss me quick on the front is really only acceptable in a world cup year. He probably thought he had a great tan but red is really so 1960's , he'd clearly never gone near a bottle of P20 !! She was probabaly attracted to the simmering anger that was for some reason spread across his unshaven face, imagining him as a a young James Dean with a cause to follow, but he struck me as the type to be quick to take umbrage at the least offence !!
It just goes to prove there are no greater slobs than certain members of the English lower-class (that’s what he was, although he would probably like to think otherwise. You can’t buy class, mate, and you sure as hell ain’t got it).
Anyway, Arthur and his long suffering wife finished and left before we ordered our mains, no doubt hurrying home to write a very strongly-worded letter to the Marxist Times or its Mallorcan equivalent. He probably uses the story as an ice-breaker at tedious pub lock ins somewhere down the Mile End Road, where he and his phoney friends still rue the passing of Old Labour.
What I think we both liked about him though was his sense of humour, and how did I deduce this ? Well you must all admire a man who is willing to walk the streets of our Mallorcian paradise with a hanky on his head , shorts,and the customary brown socks to match his sandals.( I can't help thinking what these guys look like when they strip off at home, standing in front of a mirror naked they must look like a modern day Max Wall with brown( possibly red) long Johns on !!!) The real tell tale sign however is the oligatory football tattoo such as 'Everton Forever' !! Now that is funny !!!!
I stopped Camilla making a fool of herself and dragged her away to Chivas to find a more suitable date ( true to form she wanted to go to BCM in Magalluf but I was having none of it. )
We frequently go back to Los Z, me attracted by the cuisine and great service, her the chance to maybe meet the man of her dreams. To date he's never shown but I suspect his classy son and wife have probably persuaded him to move to a more middle class,white collar approach to life and the working class hero is no more !!! As for Camilla she's now got her eye on a couple of old reprobates seen in Los Z recently sporting Watford tatoos .... there really is no hope for her!!!