by Rossella Forle’ – clicca qui per la version in italiano
I have always asked myself this question after biging on meat.
After experimenting the Duke’s with a group of testosterones, male, heterosexual beer drinkers friends. Mattias decided to take me out for dinner right there … “you will see it’s a treat, it’s gonna be an amazing experience ” he repeated along the way.
Nice place, something in a middle between a restaurant and a classic east londoner pub. The public is absolutely male. The only women around are the waitresses with short skirts and some other desperate ones like me, dragged by her boyfriend super excited about the idea of eating a steak, which weighs as much as his bike. Apart from a couple of Korean tourists, happened to be there by chance, perhaps because lost and hungry. It’s all just men greeting each other, clutching hands with brotherly affection, pats on the back, accomplices smiles. Tables full of glasses like at the Oktoberfest, abundant bellies and beards everywhere. So if you are single, it may be the right place. I would not be shocked if the men’s toilet has a shooting to hit the toilet bowl.
We sit and order, the portions here are huge, the waitress looks at me like an old auntie with experience recommending to divide my portion. So after having ordered pork ribs, beef, spicy chicken and craft beers, we were ready for the great feast. To be honest I was truly excited. Ah beers! because Duke’s is not any place, it’s the Beavertown brewery restaurant, the Mecca for beer experts in this area. London is currently the wonderland for lovers of independent beers, there are more breweries between Hackney Central and Dalston that in all Bavaria. Me and Mattias met at one of these events for craft beer nerds. The Five Points brewery in Hackney central, although I’m not a beer fan, my life since more than 2 years is conditioned by beer.
Back to our fantastic dinner, what we has been served is just spectacular. The size of the cuts are huge it seems a sort of return to Neolithic, at the time when we used to kill the bison and ate them cooked on fire in a dark cave. All it accompanied by different kind of sauces, all home made.
I ate everything, devoured everything. I thought that fasting could be the only possible punishment to guilt that will come later, but say no it’s absolutely impossible.
The third round of meat, sauces, beer and chips I had to unbutton and lower the zipper of my skirt. I was exploding, I was sweating, I was almost hallucinating.
A shot of protein that devastated me. After we paid the bill and left. I was there in pain, I just wanted to lie down on the sidewalk like after a rave in ketamine. We decided to walk home, he would help me to digest, the ride? suffering, my kidneys for help, my body begged me not to repeat this experience ever again, it was as if it was saying “this is the last time you do that to yourself, how you gonna burn all these fucking calories, pole dancing? not even with a winch motor you will raise the pole, my dear “…
So I understood or rather I’ve always known, that places frequented by men whether breweries, sport pubs, restaurant for anti-vegetarians, motorcycle clubs everything that can be vaguely close to male world, should be avoided.
Girls what I’m giving you is an advice from the heart, as an older sister. Let them go alone!
” Man” needs his time to show his masculinity to other men, where they can regress as human being and connecting themselves with their ancestral attachment to fire, meat and ooooppps … pussy … noooo I miss that. I truly believe that where is meat and beer, there is no woman taking!