Last night we held our fourth supperclub of the season. It’s so great getting to do exactly what we want in beautiful, hidden places around Ibiza. Last night our host was Angie, an artist who moved to Ibiza in the 60s and build this beautiful house and gardens. I asked her – can we do dinner for around 60 people in your garden? In the true old skool spirit of the island she replied ‘ Oh darling, you must do dinner for 60 in my garden.” So we did.

Dan set the scene with some beautiful guitar followed by Siaid doing a great eclectic mix. James surpassed himself with the food. He had gotten drunk at the weekend and come up with the idea of French Bistro Goes Vegetarian. As a consequence we had an array of French classics as starter but twisted to suit James’s penchant. Steak tartare was a beetroot tartare with creamed corn instead of egg. Freaky but freakin’ A too. Really really good. We had Sham Hock - so instead of ham hock terrine we had celeriac terrine jelled with not  good old boiled bones but agar agar. This list went on, twisting as it went. All out of the ordinary, all fantastic.

Then we had lamb anchoiade with figs from my tree that have come early. The vegetarians had courgette flowers in this ace gluten free flour that is actually better than the normal frying flour. The accompanying ratatouille was the highlight for me even if it was presented like the one in the film about that rat in a kitchen, Ratatwatatwat or some such.

Then we had our dessert parade – a beautiful, messy, sinful dessert literally thrown on the table. I cant get enough of watching the guests’ expression. “What the fuck is this?” is written all over their faces. It then unfailingly turns to delight.

By midday today all will be calm in the garden again as we begin our hunt for the next spot.