When a close friend jumped ship for Dubai recently, we had a big posh goodbye lunch at the Oxo Tower Brasserie. It was “just order a starter as a main” expensive, but it was a special occasion so I spunked £12.50 on a cocktail. I can’t remember what I ordered, but my buddy ordered a Rhuby Spritz. One sip later and the fact that I’d have to work two hours to pay for it flew out the window: I had to have one. Some kind of witchcraft had created a rhubarb cocktail that tasted exactly like rhubarb and custard sweeties. Amazing. And it looks so fucking prim with its flirty summer berries. What a tease.