I heart Ping Pong! It’s been a while since I went out for a restaurant date with my wife, the former blonde… but since I’ve just resigned my job in the middle of the recession and will now be sitting around the house watching Top Gear on Dave and ‘networking’ on the internet, while she slaves away to pay the mortgage… she deserves a treat.

We head for the Bayswater branch through a bitterly cold night, not really knowing what to expect. Can a dim sum chain that’s sprouted so many branches hold a candle to the specialists of Chuen Cheng Ku in Chinatown or the rude-but-brilliant maestros of Royal China? Well, that’s not really what they’re trying to do. For a start, it’s half the price. For twos, the menu is accessible but exciting – exotic tastes, but set out so we can order ourselves without help. Thirdly, they are charm personified. Part of the mystique of many high end Dim Sum places is the blank stares that become downright threatening if you linger over your food – but it sure is nice to be greeted warmly and offered a drink and time to think.

Ordering is done by ticking boxes and we’re told to stick to three or four dishes each. So we go for ten – about right for greedy people. My wife’s absolute favourite is the Sichuan pork crackling starter – salt and fat – mmm! Steamed dumplings, spring rolls and Char sui buns are of a good standard, but the highlights are those dishes that we’ve not seen before – prawn and squid cakes, flaky roast pork puffs and superbly succulent ham hock in sesame oil. Delicious, and very more-ish. The only disappointment from a highly enjoyable feast is the wasabi and chocolate ice cream which could use a lot more wasabi.

Like many a gallant gentleman, I like to take my lady out, but then I sit there fidgeting while one part of my mind wrestles with the price. At Ping Pong, everything is transparently priced and cheap. I also love a place that serves prosecco, the Italian version of champagne. It’s just as lovely, and a quarter of the price. We knock it back like fury and our meal still tots up at under £60.

We finish our night with Flowering Dragon Eye teas that arrive as curled balls in the bottom of tall glasses and gradually unfurl to produce captivating, colourful flowers. Not unlike ourselves, swept in by a cold gale off the street and now stuffed full of the joys of good food and drink, flushed, smiling and in love with the place. We’ll be back… if I ever get a job.

As we file in late, Scott explains that we are to be hearing from a panel of guests, asking questions, mingling and swapping books. Apparently, this is what people did before the internet. Tonight’s Book Swap is about literature, and ‘live social networking’.

So far, so hip. But your intrepid reporter was to be left wishing for some of that blessed anonymity that the internet provides.

Co-chairing the event is glamorous, outspoken novelist Marie Phillips, author of Gods Behaving Badly. She lightens the mood with personal revelations about her crush on David Tennant and her hatred of the Harry Potter series. Marie and Scott welcome to their sofa Robert McCrum, former editor-in-chief at Faber & Faber and, more recently, literary editor for The Observer. The final guest is Jessica Ruston, author of the dreadful-sounding Luxury, set in the world of the super-rich and their hotels.

Teething problems see the book-swapping left until the implausibly late hour of 10pm and a few awkward moments where the hosts slag off the questions offered by the audience. If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all is probably the mantra for aspiring hosts. Overall though, the evening has a delightful ebb and flow as the guests sink deeper and deeper into their sofa, offering memories, observations and suggestions in response to a lively audience, and taking a lead in the book-swap process.

Over the course of two hours, topics include inspiration, perspiration, log-rolling, first dates, pet hates and comic books. We learn that McCrum loathes the Hay Festival (too much like hard work?), the standard authorial process is to re-work until you get bored, and that Jessica has been traumatised as a child by featuring on the paperback cover of her mother Susan Hill’s bestselling works. We also witness a number of excellent swaps with Scott wandering into the audience à la Graham Norton to encourage people to ‘pimp’ their poetry collections, mountaineering near-misses and slush pile nonentities.

The key figure for this first night is definitely McCrum, the elder statesman of the gathering but considered and considerate, answering silly questions where he can and making sure to bring the audience in and encourage them. His best known work is a book about recovering from a stroke, My Year Off, and it’s fascinating to hear him talk about the feedback he still gets from stroke victims and his hope that he might find God in the middle of his trouble. He didn’t. Not even remotely.

This is a great format for a literary evening: tweaks would probably include more booze, and more enforced swaps. Overall though, it’s wonderful to get such an intimate insight into the inspirations of the panelists, and the thoughts of everyone in the room about the future of books and publishing. Pack and McCrum are both at the white hot edge of net technology, promoting authors through social networks, but there’s no denying the power of Tesco’s either. And in fact, there’s a refreshing openness about blockbusting books. Nothing wrong with a few sales.

However, when it comes time to interact, the wheels fall off for Spoonfed’s representative. I get so excited by finally swapping Joseph O’Neill’s triumphant Netherland (the best book I see all night, but apparently old news to this crowd) that I go a bit manic and swap three more times in quick succession. I think this means I’m winning until I see three people looking at me in a slightly hurt manner. They liked those books, but I used them as disposable chips. Mind you, they were about travel: yuck.

The crowning social disaster of the night sees me dragging my wife out of the building before I have to face up to the victim of my crime, the lovely Marie Phillips, who has the misfortune to follow me into the disabled loo. We have to leave because I can never meet her eye again. And I bet that’s never happened to anyone on the internet.

JH

Recognising the incredible potential of using the public’s intrinsic love of fashion to promote charitable donations, St Luke’s Hospice has decided to launch their own temporary store on Thursday 30th and Friday 31st July. They will be gracing Whitecross Street Market manned to the teeth by those in the know about fashion. The store will be made of entirely donated, second hand and vintage clothes, and all designer fashion starts from a respectable £25.

The profits will be forwarded to The St Luke’s Centre, who provide help to the socially excluded in the EC1 area.

GM

Such is the difficult state of theatre in the modern world. Even without the effects of the recession, dramatic theatre has had to compete with the spectacle of musicals, the accessibility of cinemas and the affordability of television programmes. Various attempts have been made to draw crowds to theatre, including free tickets to under-25s and free performances across the city, but now the National Theatre is now taking this mission worldwide, with NT Live.

The concept is simple. A single performance of Phèdre, starring Helen Mirren, is to be digitally filmed, and beamed to cinemas across the world. UK audiences will all experience the show live, while cinemas elsewhere will screen the performance at a suitable local time. The National Theatre hopes that this will open the walls of their performances to theatre fans across the globe, and even attract a few cinemagoers in the process.

Phèdre, based on the classic Greek myth, is a savage play by Jean Racine, translated into free verse by the late Poet Laureate, Ted Hughes. It follows Phèdre, who is consumed by an uncontrollable passion for her young stepson. Believing Theseus, her absent husband, to be dead, Phèdre confesses her darkest desires and enters the world of nightmare. However, when Theseus returns alive and well, Phèdre, fearing exposure, accuses her stepson of rape. Given the talent involved, this performance is sure to be entertaining and full of great production value, and nothing says “pass the popcorn” like Greek myths and incest.

The broadcast of Phèdre will occur on 25th June, and tickets will be available at approximately 50 cinemas and arts centres in the UK for £10. Over 100 venues around the world will also screen the production, and cinema audiences will be treated to behind-the-scenes footage and interviews with artists. The National Theatre also hopes to screen three more shows in a similar fashion throughout the year, but have yet to announce specifics. Those interested in viewing Phèdre may check their local art house cinema listings in the following areas.

Belsize Park | Brixton | Clapham | Croydon | East Finchley | Greenwich | Islington | Kensal Green | Notting Hill | Richmond | Stratford |

For more information on the production, or venues outside of london, visit the National Theatre.

-BE

The news has resonated with the team at Spoonfed towers, following a break-out meeting yesterday where it was unanimously decided to smarten up our own  act with regard to language. Swearing is, of course, a valuable and satisfying part of our Anglo-Saxon heritage. However, it definitely does offend some people and now that thousands of you are checking us out every day, we’re putting the kibosh on anything that could be considered off-putting. Or lazy! The main point about swearing in written content, is that it denotes a lack of imagination. That’s why you won’t see Spoonfed rolling out a nasty word anytime soon unless someone really, truly deserves it.

Following up this commendable decision, I arrived at the office this morning determined to lead by verbal example. From 9am henceforth, I resolved, no blue language would sully the office environment. Or none from me anyway.

But then I found out we’d run out of milk and sugar.

JH

It is of course, ridiculous to live in a country where a couple of inches of snow, which falls EVERY SINGLE YEAR, takes the government, the transport system and the schools by complete surprise and forces them to give everyone the day off. However, it’s also very pleasant. Hackney is full of kids snowballing each other and parents gamely dragging their offspring to the nearest tiny slope on plastic toboggans. The parks and canal are transformed from their habitual Victorian grottiness into a kind of Dickensian festivity. And anything achieved today feels like an adventure.

Alright, so it’s only a couple of inches. But in London, it’s time to break out the snow shoes, tie a barrel of rum round your neck, and head for your local, where you’ll find huddled masses of office workers reminiscing about the great storm of ‘87 and grinning from ear to ear because they’re not in work. Enjoy your snow responsibly!

JH

Alright, so perhaps Hamlet isn’t quite as much of a catch as some of the various modern royals waltzing about these days.  And of course there’s the downside that he’s fictional.  But there’s something about the great Dane that has captured the imagination of theatre and literature buffs as well as the general public for centuries.

And Hamlet has stepped back into the limelight over the last few months.  With culture icons Patrick Stewart and David Tennant performing in this season’s version of the Shakespearean classic at the RSC making headlines, Hamlet was launched into the public eye with a vengeance.  And before yethinks the press doth protest too much the way Hamlet has recaptured the public’s imagination, consider also the Hamlet Weblog and Hamlet appearing on the West End as well.

Perhaps the greatest incarnation of the original emo kid and his Danish cohorts has been produced this summer by The Factory with their Last Ever Underground Hamlet, which is taking place at midnight at the Globe next Saturday.  In The Factory version, the actors can play multiple roles and are cast minutes before the performance and all props are provided by the audience. Joe, our theatre editor, has tracked down one of the founders and principles of The Factory, Alex Hassell, for an interview about Underground Hamlet and the process of putting this event together.

At Spoonfed, we’ve caught the Hamlet fever as well and we’re giving away two tickets to the Last Ever Underground Hamlet performance at The Globe so if you’re interested in entering to win, head over to the competition page.

In the meantime, the play’s the thing to keep an eye out for this year and I highly recommend you take a look at Joe’s interview with The Factory’s Alex Hassell.

Are you a fan of Hamlet or are you of the opinion that it’s just something rotten in the state of Denmark?