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    Bruno is their waiter tonight. He’s a muscular young man, not very tall, who’s trying to get into NIDA, and meanwhile making a good waiter. He knows that even if he does get into NIDA and become an actor waiting will still stand him in good stead. When he comes to take their order the magistrate says, in quite a sharp voice, Tania, have you decided? and Jerome guesses that Titania is his little joke. He’s famous for his little jokes on the bench, often to do with the young people who come up before him for petty crimes going out and getting real jobs.
    I see Flora’s doing the black pudding tonight, says Godblot. Would that be the one she makes out of her own blood?
    I’m afraid not, sir, says Bruno.
    Oh, no point in having that then. The sweetbreads, I think. And the tripe for you?
    Yes, I think so, I like the sound of it.
    You Labor people. Working-class and never lose it.
    I doubt there’s anything very working-class about the tripe at The Point, says Tania.
    It’s peasant food, says Godblot. Not one of the ritzier parts of the animal.
    Only to begin with, says Tania.
    That’s right, says Bruno. And to begin?
    The oysters, I think. Rockefeller, it’s with … ?
    Spinach, says Bruno, and champagne.
    Sixties revival, says Godblot. You should be here when she does chicken Kiev. Quite a little revelation.
    When Will Morecombe goes to the lavatory Terry Feldman does a bit of working the room. He pauses by Jerry’s table, says, Might be worth keeping an eye, I hear there’s a bit of outsourcing going on.
    The thing about Terry is he loves his job. Can’t help doing it, all the time.
    When Bruno comes to take his order Jerome asks him about the tripe. On the menu, written by hand each day, it simply says tripe .
    It’s a bit of a wonder, says Bruno. She starts off with that Lyonnais dish, fireman’s apron, but she does it in a very delicate batter, and there’s just a little touch of star anise in the flavouring. You have to forget anything you ever knew about tripe when you eat it.
    Well, I’d better have it. I’m not usually a fan of tripe, but I do believe Flora can convert anybody to anything. Pity about the black pudding, but can’t have both.
    There’s a consommé that’s pretty amazing, says Bruno, a little broth of smoked salmon, and there’s saffron, and a wisp of pastry floating over it. Delicate but rich.
    Bruno makes up for the taciturnity of the menu, but it’s all his own work.
    The sommelier comes to discuss the wine choices, bringing a glass of champagne. The Point bought its cellar from a grand Melbourne restaurant that went out of business, and George keeps it going. There are plenty of decent old reds to have with the tripe. And with the consommé? A glass of sherry perhaps, he has an old one, very dry, very fine. Or an old Hunter riesling that has developed beautifully.
    What’s with the blood pudding, Titania is asking Godblot.
    There was a story, about a banquet that Flora did. That she saved her own blood and made black pudding out of it. Probably apocryphal, but who knows?
    Wouldn’t it be illegal?
    Hard to say, really. The question probably hasn’t come up. So no precedents. The law is all about precedents, you know.
    And analogy. I’d imagine. What would be the analogy?
    I’d have to give it some thought. And I’d rather consider the oysters. Very large and sizzling. As big and juicy as they look, I hope.
    When Bruno brings the tiny bowl of consommé Jerome asks, What’s this about oysters Rockefeller and sixties revival?
    It’s one of Flora’s interests. You know how so much of the food of that time has become a cliché, even a joke? Not to mention junk food, industrially produced, like chicken Kiev. She likes to take it up again and subvert it, or rather, subvert what it’s become, get beyond the kitsch to the real ingredients. She’s working on a prawn cocktail – you should keep an eye out for it. It’ll be pretty cool.
    Hugh Todhunter is dining with his