Sexy time

Nick Clegg and sex. What doesn’t the dude know about it — he told Piers Morgan he had slept with ‘no more than 30 people’? He recently took his wife, Miriam González Durántez, the best of the political wives (no interviews, no photoshoots and their kid is called something like Zorro) to the ‘sexiest’ restaurant in London, as a reward for letting George Osborne telephone the house. It’s called Clos Maggiore, it is in Covent Garden and it has been open for 11 years. (Not a sexy age, 11, but bear with me). I’m not sure a restaurant can actually be sexy but PRs think everything is sexy — spoons, Utterly Butterly, Nick Clegg. So sexy, says the Times, and gave Clos Maggiore an award for sexiness. Top Table called it Most Romantic Restaurant 2011 — runner-up.

Is this a trend? The leaders of the coalition are always going on dates, shrieking their sexual normality; it is a policy. Austerity is sexy, goes this argument, like the Blitz; there was so much sex in the Blitz, the other half of London fell over. David Cameron took Samantha to Oslo Court, the Jewish grandmother restaurant, because Dave doesn’t know you can’t be sexy near a breaded fish and that at Oslo Court on any one night you have to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ 48 times and watch an aneurysm. I suppose if he dined in Cut or Scott’s people would think he didn’t care about the po-ar; it would be the foodie equivalent of that Angry Birds game he was always playing until his special adviser kicked it out of his hand and screamed ‘Focus!’