I found this buried somewhere and realized that in my post-London fog, I never posted it. Because I'm so brilliant at this blogging thing that I guess I assume things will just magically appear on the page when I want them to. Oh, and here's the link to the London pics on Flickr. Our last night in London, we treated ourselves to a Medieval Banquet. The basic premise is that if you give them an obscenely ludicrous amount of money, they will give you four courses of food, a few dancing girls, some men prancing around with swords, and all-you-can-drink-beer and wine. What's not to love? It was like a family night that was tailor-made for us. First, we're going to clarify the all-you-can-drink aspect. Because if you know anything about me, you know that when I saw that printed on the ad, I pulled The Professor's American Express out of his back pocket without asking any questions such as "Honey, is it ok if I use your credit card?" Or "Exactly what kind of beer and wine are we talking about?" Or even "Does anyone else want to do this?". I'm not sure what they did to the beer. I'm not sure that the wine even had alcohol in it. The beer came out of a tap and into a pitcher that was shared by the table. The wine just kept appearing in glass jugs. The beer tasted better - and went better with the meal - so that's what I drank. Our cups were small, but I had plenty. The first pitcher was kind of flat, so we drank it quickly to get a fresh one (there were 12 of us at the table, about 4 or 5 drinking the beer). It was better - but I swear they were serving the Non-alcoholic version. Which is probably a good thing, because if I had to watch the dancing girls whirling around and around and around while I was drunk, I probably would've ended up under the table. Best lines: The only other American at the table was some guy from Way Up North (which would excuse him for his lack of manners, if I were in a charitable mood. I wasn't). When the paté was served on a trencher with some crusty bread, his only comment was: "Liverworst! I haven't had that in years! Where's the mustard?" StepSon, upon being asked why he was watching the servers so intently: "I'm pretty sure those shirts are supposed to fall off at some point." Me, to the guy sitting next to my StepSon: "Your girlfriend is drunk and puking in the bathroom and she wants to talk to you." It was a great night.