Friday Night Delight

With no plans in sight on Friday night but a spontaneous pub dinner with friends in the neighborhood, I cycled down my street to meet my friends on Notting Hill's notoriously wet Westbourne Park Road to grab some grub at the famous Conran-owned pub The Cow. I dismounted my bike only to find that the buzzing pub was already packed with people and the windows were steamed from the warm breaths of giddy English drinkers. 

I smiled, it was exactly what I needed. I was home. My friends were already there, waiting, sipping on a pint or two. And the great thing was, as we looked around curiously, we all turned back to each other, and smiled at the fact that it was Friday. We were all so pleased to be there. After waiting for our table, the waitress sat us down at the cozy corner by the fire place where we were sure to get overheated. But we didn't care. The menu came by, we didn't dare to open it. We knew what we wanted. There is no point in denying it, we all skipped the part where we all pretend to be open-minded about what we're going to order, and we fast-forwarded to the part where we call upon the waitress for three fish stews and a chilled bottle of cabernet. A small grin appeared on her face, as she is of course, is used to this non diversity of orders, since the place is, after all, renowned for its mouth-watering fish stew.

The plates arrived and there are no words to describe our sense of ecstasy. It was like we had been working hard that whole week and waiting for a moment special like that one to make all of our troubles disappear. One sip of the soup, one bite into the aioli toast, and one munch of the steaming fish chunks later, it was done, we were in paradise. If you ask me, there is noting more satisfying than going to a restaurant where there is no choosing to be made. You've known what you wanted to eat that whole week, have been day dreaming about it for the last couple hours and you know this will hit the spot just right if you accompany it with a glass of wine. But then again, that's just my idea of a perfect Friday night. What's yours?

Fish n' Chips a la Conran

I never thought I'd say this but I am growing more and more fond of British food. I guess, after over a year spent in this lovely country, after one too many of Jamie Oliver cooking shows (for lack of a better choice) and after numerous Sunday Roasts, Fish n' Chips and a million different varieties of shepherds/farm/fisherman gooey slushy types of pies, I have grown accustomed to the strange combination of ingredients (green jelly with red meat, really???) and the taste confusion explosions that have occurred in my mouth in the last 12 months. I have never thought of myself as food snob, not really, but I like my dishes to be plain and simple, and most of all, I like my food to be clearly identifiable on the plate in front of me. I like to  know what I'm eating and I like to know what I'm injecting into my body. I like to know what type of meat I'm smelling, what's in a pie and what certain mysterious lumps of goo are made of. Well anyways, I'm being open-minded, I am, I really am! In fact, I'm somewhat surprised at how much I have enjoyed the British fare experience. Especially when that experience consists of eating in a fresh and industrial-looking place like the Albion in Shoreditch. Cuz it's so much cooler than pubs! I just hate it when I'm eating my Sunday Roast in a gloomy ale-stinking bomb of a pub in the middle of the day, and it is so dark that I have trouble sticking my fork in that one miserable little pea.

Right across the street from the uber cool "members only" Shoreditch House, sits the "everyone's allowed!" uber-er cool Conran-owned Albion caff, as the locals call it, where you can probably find the most delicious and trendiest fish n' chips in all of London. Well at least in all of Shoreditch. It's got everything you want in a breakfast place, the food, the people watching, and the obvious 20 minute queue. No reservations are accepted, but as you are patiently waiting for your turn to be seated, you can take a stroll down to their ultra chic downstairs restaurant The Boundary , gawk at their marvelous bakery and let your nostrils and eyeballs be teased by their small and exclusive grocery shop. You will find that the wait is not as long as anticipated. 


                      The Albion Caff on Boundary Street, Shoreditch