This is still my stuff.

Tonight, not only did we grind our gnashers' way through 5 different cuts of impressively varied beef steak - from carpaccio of Aberdeen Angus fillet, through sirloin of grass-fed Hereford and rib-eye of grain-fed Casterbridge beef, to New York strip steak cut from 35-day Creekstone corn-fed U.S.D.A. prime - but: we ate 9th-grade Wagyu beef rump (top right) at the Maze Grill.

The Wagyu producers in Japan only export up to 5th-grade product, keeping the higher grades back for inland consumption by the local connoisseurs, and so the rump we had was Australian, its origin and California being apparently the two only other sources of such high grades.

I grant you, I've not yet been to Japan, nor tried even low-grade Japanese Wagyu beef outside it, but frankly, if the Australian stuff is as good as this, served as deliciously broiled as this in one of the top meat restaurants in London, and I get to have a taste, then my nose is staying fairly resolutely in joint.

This was remarkable food. It's quite an endorsement of the meal as a whole if all 11 attending Meat Club members (out of a planned 12 - you know who you are, vegetarian) gladly cherish every drop even of the pudding. Jason Atherton, you and your excellent staff deserve every one of your plaudits. Thank you for treating us to this feast.

It's a long time since I've been to one of these proper rave jobs, but it was Cookie's birthday bash, and joining him and the crowd in going along seemed like a mighty fine idea when we spilled out of the bar, even though I had to cough twenty notes to a tout to get in. The do, called "Bugged Out", was in a warehouse in Hearn St, off Curtain Road in Shoreditch. "Too Many DJs" played along with various hard/electro-house types, and it was a pretty decent set-up. Proper dirty warehouse with no frills, but what was there was solid; just a shit-hot sound system, couple of podia, some robo-scans (YEEAHH) and other lighting things I don't know the names of, decent bogs, just-about-bearably-priced drinks (three and a half quid for a beer) and genuinely friendly, unstressed barfolk. Fun.