Robert Fripp

Robert Fripp's Diary

Wednesday 13 December 2000

The Station Grill Braganza Street

22.57
The Station Grill, Braganza Street, only one block from Kennington station on the Northern line, is a relatively undiscovered treat among London diners. Its reputation is beginning to spread, if the full tables last night is any indication. It is owned and run by the three Mehmet Brothers, one of whom is Ali. Ali is a pal, so I do not pretend to impartiality when I declare that the Station Grill can hold its own with the best in town. Go there now. Now.

Ali is also a discriminating listener, one whose criticism is of more value to me than the acclaim of (for example, and as recently referred to on the Guestbook) Alan Neister of the Toronto Daily Inquisitor. In this case, Mr. Neister's approval is unlikely. Mr. Neister is a recipient of the John Gill Award For Persistent Nastiness (reliably now for 27 years) and the Robert Christgau Award For Objective Perception. The Station Grill has itself recently been reviewed, in the London press. One of the more interesting reviews criticised a dish The Grill doesn't actually serve. Perhaps that reviewer should get the John Collinge Award For Culinary Acuity.

My Tuesday evening with pals Ali, Damon & Robin on Braganza Street was a fabbo evening.

Today: to DGM World Central. More pivotal changes continue to unfold from David's essential vision. David has drafted a DGM Artist Agreement which is our model for a music industry of the future. Majors may catch on, but this is unlikely: their agenda continues as one of ownership. A recent relevant quote is this: "We own and exploit copyrights".

Now - bliss joy wonderment delight: I'm home in Deepest Dorset. Were I to adopt a laggardly pace when stepping from our front door over and into the inn, maybe it would take me 45 seconds - but only if I stretched it out. The owners, who also own our Sister fabbo pub up the road, were tonight hosts. Martyn The Owner (not to be confused with Martin The Wonder Barman) had only just arrived back from London (his train was an hour late on a 2 hour 30 minute journey) and bought me a beerless beer (Kaliber is my preference) with a shot of lime cordial. "Watch television with us in the back room if you're on your own". Yep. I've come home.

Did I mention how much I love living here?

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