This was the 3rd time that Blondie and 'The Buik' visited this restaurant. The 1st time, we were trying to find somewhere local to eat and it was around 10pm at night. Which, being in Spain, you wouldnt have thought would be a problem. The Buik stayed in the car and I was sent off to scan the menu to see if there was anything that would hit the spot. I got told, by a rather charming member of staff, that the kitchen would be closing in 10 minutes - which in other words translated as 'We cant be arsed to serve you if you come in now so please do us a favour and eat elsewhere' - which, going off their menu 2 years ago, I was happy to do :)

So it was with reluctance that we ventured back there, firstly at Easter time of this year. We had heard that it had burned down a few months previous (we are not sure if this was at the hands of the Costa del Sol mafia, or if someone had got a little over zealous with the fryer) but I think it deserved another go. We went down there in the daytime as it was glorious weather - and Blondie was up for an olympic style lunch. As normal :)

The menu is bizarre. The climate in Marbella is from around March/April till end of September, warm by Northern European standards. Summers are sometimes unbearable, each year hotter and hotter and we avoid the month of August, where it gets invaded with unruly English and Italians who flock here for the heat. The menu is decidely British with fish and chips and home made burger featuring. Now I dont know about you, but the last thing I want to eat in 30 degree heat is a burger or fish and chips?!!!!!!!!

But on that particular day, I didnt mind eating a burger - as you can tell how good a restaurant is, by how well they can make a burger. It was a good enough, but there was too much meat to bread, which was rather irritating. Chips were good though :) The Buik had fish and chips and he didnt have much to complain about. Several mojitos later, we waddled out of there, fairly satisfied.

So it was with a fair amount of anticipation that we went back again the summer. We seemed to have exhausted all other restaurants in the 3 weeks we were down in Marbella again and as the Beach House is so close to our house down there, we thought we would give it another go.

We arrived at 10pm and got ushered through the restaurant that was packed, to a seating area where a young buck knocked up a mojito and something lairily coloured for 'The Buik'. Then we got ignored. In fact, it got to 10.30 and we just knew what was going to happen. When we would get discovered, we would be told that we couldnt eat 'As the kitchen is closed'. Well, the maitre d' eventually spied us growing more irritated by the second, and showed us to quite a cute table, just in front of Alan Sugar, no less. He looked like he'd been tucking into the red with gay abandon. I dont know what beauty regime his wife uses, but I'd like her secret. She is stunning :)

I started with Tempura prawns on a sesame seed salad with a coconut and sweet chilli sauce. That was really nice and fresh. You cant beat a fried prawn :) I cant remember what 'The Buik' had. Probably 2 Malboro lights and another lairy cocktail ;) Whatever it was, it wasnt special enough for me to remember anyway.
For main course I took 'Lobster, new potato, rocket and parmesan, salad, pesto dressing and asparagus hollandaise'. What a travesty to lobster that lot is. The lobster was incredibly juicy, and pefectly cooked. But there was absolutely NO need for the other parts to that dish. Rocket and parmesan salad is one dish. Pesto dressing belongs nowhere near anything else and asparagus and hollandaise sauce is a dish unto itself too. Whoever thought it was a good idea to lollop it all together on one plate needs a ruddy good slap. It didnt go at all. You almost start to get suspicious if a restaurant feels the need to fancify a lobster in the way that the Beach House did.
The Buik took fish and chips as he was feeling rather adventurous that night ;) and apart from the chips being arranged in a cube shape (which he hates) he agreed that the fish was better than we can cook at home, which irked and pleased me in equal measures.
We had a cracking bottle of white wine and some sort of dessert. Dont ask me what it was because my eyes went squiffy and we retired home shortly after.

All in all, I am not sure I'll be back. The service is chaotic and they paid far too much attention to Sir Alan Sugar. In my eyes, every client is the same, I dont want to be ignored because someone more famous is behind me. Why should I be ignored? We are all paying for the food at the end of the day!!!!!!

Nikki Beach Marbella. Arrogantly hailed as the 'Sexiest Place on the Earth'. Well that is what the website says. For the past 4 years of going down to Marbella, it has been a regular feature on Blondie's credit card statement. In fact, I think Blondie has single handedly kept the owner in Russian hookers for the entire last 4 years. Shame she wont be going back again after the last visit, which was a disaster. Have you ever been amongst the cesspit of humanity on a Sunday afternoon? Having lived in Bolton, it should come as no surprise that I would have had first hand experience of such creatures. But I didnt expect things to come full circle and them come back into fashion in my 30's.

Nikki Beach is the sort of place where you go on a whim. Well we do anyway. It isnt near anything - apart from our house, rather conveniently :) You go in, with the intention of having '1 mojito' and 6 hours later , you leave with a contingent of Russians, Pakistanis with guns (dont ask), the DJ, an overpriced sarong and a bill that will make you want to cry. You sure as hell wont be able to drive your car home and you will definately never, ever, want to drink champagne again. But it's all part of experience right?

Wrong. So very wrong. Blondie and The Buik have sworn never to return to Nikki Beach after being there on a fateful Sunday of July. Anyone that has been to Nikki cites 'Sundays' as the best day to go down for a sneeky Mojito or two. It is awash with beautiful looking people, who invariably get more attractive as the 8th Mojito kicks in. Uniform is Missoni and breast implants for the girls, and a huge fat wallet and loafers for the guys.

We had got to know one of the guys that worked at Nikki at Easter and he gave us his mobile number in case we wanted a nice table in the VIP bit when we would come in the Summer. I am always well up for a bit of VIP treatment (the very concept of VIP in Amsterdam does not exist, slipping a waiter anything other than your mobile number just brings stares of confusion!) so we gave him a call as we were planning a heavy Sunday afternoon session and wanted to be guaranteed some level of service.

We arrived and had to negotiate the 'door bitch' whose job it was to make everyones lives as miserable as possible. What a waste of space she was. The new friendly barman greeted us and waived us past 'Door Bitch' and was amply rewarded for his services before taking us to the very best table in the VIP bit.

It all started out rather civilised, we both had a mojito and plate of the Gambas pil pil and some lightly fried calamari, which were lush. Nikki Beach obviously decided to invest in a good fryer! Only problem with the food, is there wasnt enough of it to soak up the bottle of Dom Perignon Rosé that had accidentally found its way into an ice bucket next to us. We'll gloss over the fact that it was revolting and made me never want to drink anything from the Moet and Chandon stable ever again. So acidic (my favourite word when it comes to fizz, everything is 'acidic') and worst of all, it just was not gluggable. The Buik refused to drink anymore and ordered a bottle of Cristal to console himself. There isnt anything worse than the anticipation of drinking expensive, well refered fizz, and finding it tastes like Ghandi's flipflop. Utterly depressing.

The Cristal was going down nicely and that's when things really started to kick off. Groups of guys, underage I hasten to add (something I've never seen before down there), resplendent in stripey shirts, shorts and fully gelled hair (think mini Hoofers) all completely off their rockers, gurning to their little hearts content and swigging alcopops (how can 14 year olds afford 15 Euros bacardi breezers?!) Now I've reserved my vitriol for the 'girls' that were in attendance that day, because this is something that irks me incessantly. Liggers. You know the sort. I mean specifically girl liggers. Slight in frame and fairly attractive. More horse than human - too much white teeth and tan, but the overall picture (8 Mojitos deep) is something that you wouldnt be too depressed about waking up next to the following morning. Well - that Sunday there were hoards of them. All trying to siddle into the VIP area and ligg off the scores of portly Russians and Dutch that were drinking Nikki out of champagne. A couple of the more sprightly blondes made it past the bouncer and attached themselves to a bunch of guys next to us who were rather worse for wear. They started downing the fizz quicker than you can say 'I'm a cheap and nasty ligger'. God. How depressing. 2 sets of plastic breasts charmed the bouncer into the VIP area where the Russians were and decided to try and glugg down their fizz, before someone, rather hilariously, realised that they didnt in fact know these ligging girls and hauled their sorry arses out of the place. Now maybe I am too emancipated for my own good, but dont you think it's kind of embarassing trying to ligg champagne, or anything off a guy? Doesn't it make you feel proud to kinda buy your own drinks? Who wants to date, be friends with or even be in the company of girls that dont pay their way? The Buik takes a rather dim view of these sort I am afraid. And if Blondie and The Buik ceased to exist, then he wouldnt shack up with that lot for love, money or a lapdance. Sorry girls, you'll have to put your overtanned hand in your fake Burberry wallet and pay for your own drinks if you ever end up with The Buik.
As the day went on - and I stupidly decided to go for broke and get another bottle of Cristal :( Nikki just became crap. The sound system isnt all that good, I think Buik's stereo in his Seat is better ;) and a group of Spanish kids managed to get a table just below us. One of them waved around Daddy's Platinum AMEX - and the serving staff brought them 12 bottles of Piper Hendrick - which were promptly opened and sprayed on the bevvy of plastic liggers below. A vulgar display of wealth at the best of times, but I guess you wouldnt really want to drink it. Piper is just horrid champagne. Spraying it is better than drinking it. That little display of ostentatiousness apparantly failed to satisfy the Spanish kids and they took to throwing Vodka over each other. And at 200 Euros a bottle - yes you read right - 200 Euros a bottle, I think the owner of that AMEX is going to have a bigger headache than the kids the next day. At 8pm, we called it a day and sloped off home.

Nikki Beach Marbella. Not the Sexiest place on Earth, but the chaviest, cheap and nastiest place on Earth. Patronise at your peril.

If you fancy a plate of pasta or a pizza in Marbella, where do you head to? The first place that you'll have heard of or even been to is undoubtedly 'Da Bruno's'. There are several of these in Marbella/Puerto Banus area and Blondie and the Buik have eaten at all of them. They serve the same food at all locations and the quality of food is pretty good. But a couple of years ago, after a disappointing meal there and a hefty bill, we decided to try a restaurant just a few doors down from Da Bruno's on the Golden Mile (which is the stretch between Marbella and Puerto Banus) called Terraza Dual.

It was pretty empty compared to Da Bruno's and this would normally put me off, but after having scanned the menu, we decided to give it a go.
Now we have a tried and tested way of deciding if an Italian is worth going back to. I always either take spaghetti carbonara (which should be made in the authentic way, no cream, just egg yolks, bacon and black pepper) or a spaghetti with clams. The Buik always takes a pizza. Which you would think as being rather boring or safe when it comes to eating in an Italian restaurant. But you can tell so much about a place by the quality of their pizzas. They should be thin, just like you get in Italy and be lovingly adorned with the minimal of ingredients. One thing you dont see here is pineapple as a topping, which I think is just an abomnibation of pizza. Who ever decided that adding the devils work that is fruit, onto my favourite carbohydrate of choice (pizza) wants a good talking to. The Buik asked the Italian stalion at the grill that day about his pizza oven. Apparantly they had it flown or driven over from Italy and they do the best pizzas on the Coast. Well he wasnt going to argue with stalion that day so he ordered his usual. Pizza with salami and an egg on top.
The service is good here and the wine list is fabulous. The Buik let me order a bottle of red even though the temperatures were well into the 30's - something from Puglia which sent me to sleep an hour later. Whatever it was, was fabulous. My carbonara was cooked exactly as it should have been. The spaghetti absolutely, perfectly cooked, just ever so slightly on the wrong side of al dente, but that's how the Italians eat it so who am I to argue. Egg yolks, parsley and bacon with lashings of black pepper and pecorino adorned the pasta and it was bizarrely light, for a dish that is usually something so heavy. The Buik's pizza was fabulous and he wolfed it down without so much of a word to me.
I am so happy we decided to eschew Da Bruno's and side with Terraza Dual. The staff here are all Italian, friendly and enthusiastic to boot. The food is fabulous and on one occasion when I couldnt decide what to eat, they made me the best dish I've eaten in years. Fresh crab , caught that day, in a light sauce of tomatoes, garlic and greens with spaghetti. It was served inside the crab, which was funny and quite possibly, the best plate of pasta I've ever eaten. Boy was it good. I almost considered employing the Chef to cook for me at home every night :)
Every time we go to Marbella, we eat there at least twice a week. It is reasonable and after having tried more or less every dish on the menu, I can say that nothing is less than authentic.
A fabulous restaurant and so much better than Da Bruno's. A firm hit with Blondie and The Buik.

'I want to take you for a nice meal tonight' The Buik announced on   Saturday afternoon. At the time, I was welded to a sun lounger, knee  deep in cava, attempting to get my legs, aka 'Stumps' a shade darker than milk bottle white. I eyed him suspiciously. The Buik gave up on 'taking me out for a nice dinner' years ago. I was wondering why today was any different. Had I forgotten his birthday? Hell, had I forgotten my birthday? Was it my wedding anniversary? Nope! The Buik just wanted to eat some decent food. To be honest, I was grateful for the change. As much as I love BBQ food, 8 days of eating The Buik's fabulous BBQ ribs and various other animal parts, was starting to bore me. My credit card had not been on any Nikki Beach jaunts this week either so we had a bit of spare cash.
I was put in charge of selecting somewhere that was 'close' and served 'light food' so I thought I'd give El Lago a go. Only 5 minutes drive from our house and Michelin starred, we were off there quicker than a rat up a drainpipe.
After getting hopelessly lost, we eventually happened upon El Lago and was shown to a table that could seat 6. That will teach me not to reserve ahead of time. It wasnt gezellig, but hey, at least we managed to get a table.  The service was brisk and we had an aperitif of a Kir Royale (which was dangerously gluggable) and a Campari Soda for The Buik.  Bread and 3 types of olive oil were presented along with some pink salt.  That was seriously some of the best salt I've tasted in my life. 
Amuse bouche followed quickly of short sepia nero spaghetti with a cod fritter on top.  My first venture into squid ink spaghetti and I found it rich and wouldnt be able to eat a whole portion.  Which is rather unlike me and not something you'll here me say very often.
Then the meal went somewhat downhill.  Well it did for me anyway.  I had taken temporary leave of my senses and ordered 'Grilled vegetables with a cauliflower puree'.  That is exactly what I got.  Baby carrots, courgettes, white asparagus, corn, shitake mushrooms all lolloped on the plate with a decidely dodgy cauliflower void puree.  Woefully underseasoned and blander than a bland thing.  The Buik didnt fare much better with 'Cuttlefish salad with truffle mayonnaise'.  The Chef had decided to cut up the cuttlefish into same size pieces as the mushrooms in the salad, making it impossible to tell the fish from the other parts of the salad.  The Buik concluded that he had probably eaten just 1cm worth of cuttlefish. 
God had it in for me for my main course though.  I dont know what I had done in my previous life to deserve raw monkfish loin, but that is what I got.  A third of it was raw and as soon as I spotted the offending portion, my appetite disappeared.  The cream sauce it came with was underseasoned and the whole dish met with a distinct 'bleurgh'.  Bland, bland, bland.  It's like the Chef was making food for people with no tastebuds or teeth. 
The Buik took goat but he concluded that it wasnt up to much.  He had eaten the mother of all goats in Barcelona in July and any subsequent goat eating activity would measure up to this one. 
We both took desserts, me 'Fried chocolate cake' and him 'Porridge' with some sort of yoghurt.  I ended up with mini profiteroles filled with some extraordinarily cheap and nasty chocolate mixture.  I think someone had buggered up there with the translation.  The Buik's dessert was better but really nothing that really wowed us.
The Buik took a grappa and an Espresso and I stropped around a bit.  The bill came shortly after and we scooted.

Personally, I think I chose badly that Saturday, the rest of the menu cant be as bad as what I ate but I wont be spending another 150 Euros to prove myself wrong.  It's a shame because the setting is nice and the service is quite good.  The wine isnt extortionate and we drank a fabulous white wine (Spanish no less) for 25 Euros.  And I didnt want to spit it out or cringe at the tackiness of it.  But I think it will be a long, long, long time before The Buik mutters those fateful words again of 'I want to take you out for dinner tonight'.

Oh well.  Better luck next time :)