Centotre’s Italian food is delicious. On the Secret Opera Society set menu, a starter of fresh, simple antipasta was followed by either orecchiette pasta with sausage or fillet of hake. Pudding came in the form of a hefty, heavenly tiramisu.
Ploughing through my meal, I couldn’t help but hear a noise. It started off as a chef, apologising into a microphone, saying this evening’s opera singers had been held up so he was going to fill time with a spot of ‘Fly Me to the Moon’, (with a Scottish accent, without a discernible melody). The noise took on an Italian twinge when Valentino, the maître d’, implored the chef to stop. Here the opera began, with Valentino belting impressively into a microphone of his own. To my annoyance, I noticed I had stopped eating.
It wasn’t long before the secret was out. The ‘chef’ is not a chef at all, he ‘can’t even boil an egg’. ‘Valentino’ is in fact from Aberdeen. The chef is actually a very talented baritone, Valentino remains a very talented tenor, but now he’s Scottish rather than Italian.
Last year I went to a wedding where the waiters and waitresses revealed themselves to be opera singers in a similar format. Having been a genuine secret, this went on to cause some genuine surprise, not least to my granny. The fact that Secret Opera Society's secret had been rumbled before the evening had even begun was a bit odd, particularly when the two singers had to string us along to begin with, but perhaps I was too busy with my cutlery to suspend my disbelief.
Another thing, there wasn't really much opera. Whilst we heard nice little numbers from Tosca and the old favourite 'Panis Angelicus', we then had 'Stars' and 'Bring Him Home' from Les Mis to break things up. These were followed by 'Nessum Dorma', for the second time that evening. It was a beautiful duet between our two hosts and is a well loved piece, but there's a lot of opera out there to choose from and not all of it doubles up as a World Cup anthem.
My main gripe with this event is the conflict between its components. The meal suffers somewhat as a result of the music and the microphones amplifying accessible-to-the-point-of-patronising songs do the singers and the music no favours either. Centotre provided scrumptious fayre and an elegant setting but as I tucked in, the music lost out.
