Just before Easter, when instead of raining, snow fell (almost hourly), a friend called to say that she had secured a much in demand table at Coya. Not one to know anything about 'must visit' eateries, I assumed the hyperbole regarding the restaurant was just to get us out on a freezing night (I'd just bought some yeti boots from Matalan and probably only accepted as I knew my feet could be toasty en route).
Set up by the guy behind Zuma, I guessed it would be a dressy place and put some thought into what to wear. DVF top from Bicester Village (£30 quid from £150!), Zara coated leggings, my Ebay 'mistake' and co-ordinating shoes and bag. I pushed the boat out with my American Dream hair clip-in magic hair, since Coya is Peruvian by theme and all South American ladies have the most amazing hair, so it seemed appropriate.
The food was fantastic, as was the wine, which if I'm honest I had more of, it is horrendously expensive, and those little sharing portions of delicious, tiny, health conscious bites (which for rich people masquerades as 'normal' food), a little like tapas, but cleaner flavours with lots of raw fish and bar b q-ed meat, not sure I am selling it well, but the Wall Street Journal reviewed it as one of the top ten restaurants in the world today.