Way Down to Chinatown

Not since Milk & Honey in New York and the Curio Parlour in Paris have I been able to find a decent place for a yummy, fruity, splashy, fabulous cocktail in London. It's just not that easy to come by. Paris has recently started up on the trend, while New York has been a pioneer of all things spirits and fancy alcoholic recipes for at least a decade now. But look no more, Zesties, the latest and trendiest cocktail bar in all of London has opened its doors in none other than London's Chinatown. The Experimental Cocktail Club London, known by all the Paris loyals as the ECC, is just a month old but is already buzzying with Central London's most fashionable and exquisite people.

One of the main problems with London, I find, is that most pubs and bars inconveniently close between 11 and midnight. And whether we're talking crowds, music or strict door policies, clubs over here- they just don't cut it. Who wants to pay £££ for memberships to places you end up showing up to only fortnightly, and £££ more extra to pay when the tab arrives in your lap, no less. Cocktail bars and lounges aren't really crowding the streets either. Okay so you've got the uber-fancy-old-man-take-a-call-girl-out Connaught Bar in Mayfair- though I can't say it's my weekly go-to option, considering the Euro-Posh customer base and the up-market cocktail prices. In a nutshell, for any wide-eyed and bushy-tailed London expat like myself, that's just not going to cut it.

 

So when I heard about the ECC's arrival in London last month, after reading rave reviews of its original namesake in Paris, I jumped at the opportunity to book a girls' night out. I was not disappointed. Deliciously decadent, creative and innovative cocktails, like the Spicy Old Cuban and the Experience, coupled with  luxurious velvet sofas and gorgeous crowds in a cozy and romantic speak-easy room make for a delightful and unforgettable evening. No membership. No queues at the door. No maxed-out credit cards. Who could ask for more?

The Experimentail Cocktail Club

13A Gerrard Street

W1D 5PS

An Ode to Something British: The Sunday Roast

The Sunday Roast is a deliciously unique British culinary experience. For those of you who have known it your whole lives, you must know and feel a close and intimate bond with the dish itself. I know I've experienced the same feeling with my Dad's monthly langoustine platter. It's a special relationship. But for those of you who are becoming familiarised with the dish, it's a matter of time, you'll see. For me, the Sunday roast represents my experimentation with British food, but more importantly, my eagerness to embrace all things British - including, but not limited to, pubs, two-tiered busses, jacket potatoes, Marmite on toast, fish n' chips, tea and scones, James Bond, Wimbledon, the Queen, bowler hats, Wayne Rooney and last but not least, Yorkshire Pudding. To this day, I still ignore the properties, which make Yorkshire Pudding taste so fluffy and fantastic. But I will continue to test its value, on Sundays, as I continue my quest for London's zesty roasts.

Last Sunday was the first of my many zesty escapades down Sunday Roast lane. Camera in hand and a massive appetite to satiate, I walked into The Albion in Islington. The Albion has been a London Sunday Roast staple for many years and continues to thrive on the one divine British special and simple recipe for success- beer gardens and Sunday Roasts. What's not to like? This was my second visit to the Albion so I was therefore inclined to book a table a week in advance to get the time slot of my choice in the room of my choice. The pub's dining room is a relaxing place to lazy around with your mates in the cold but cozy winter days, while the beer garden is gorgeously green in the spring and summer days.

I ordered the Roast, without even taking a glimpse at the menu. I was not deceived and I was not mistaken. My memory had not failed me, this roast was by far the best one I'd tasted since my early days as a Londoner. I scarfed all of it down, scraped the plate to its very last crumb, to the point where my jeans cut into my belly like a sword. I looked around mischievously to check whether I was the only one with nothing left on her plate. Indeed I was- others were still chewing on crunchy potatoes dipped in gravy and cutting into smooth and red-tastic slices of beef. I was envious. I wish I had lingered a little bit more on my plate, tasted the flavours a little better, let the buttery potatoes and horseradish sauce melt on my tongue a little longer. But hey ho, all the more reason to try this again. 

In hindsight, I can't stop thinking what a gorgeous meal that was. And I'm ready for a redo. Anytime, anywhere, you name it, zesties.

The Albion

10 Thornhill Road

N1 1HW

0207 607 7450

It's all There: In Pimlico the Beautiful

My overall feeling today is joy. Joy and excitement. As I glance over at the date on my computer screen, I realise that we are more than halfway through this short week and we can start looking ahead to the weekend. As a frequent traveler, I tend to enjoy my London weekends a lot these days. Maybe it has something to do with constant urge to discover new places, maybe I just like it here. It's probably a little bit of both to be quite frank. I like just hanging out. And I don't care that the term hanging out has a colloquial tone to it, there is just no better way to translate my feelings onto the page. Hanging, from being loose. Out, from being out and about.

 Church of Saint Saviour, Pimlico

Spring is my favourite season to enjoy the many beauties London has to offer. Lately I've sort of developed an obsession with the squares that dot our gorgeous city. Yes it's true. Last weekend, we were lucky enough to be blessed with at least one nice day. I took this opportunity to wander about an unfamiliar area, Pimlico. Me oh my, what a lovely little picture book neighborhood. The little Square cornered off by Pimlico Road and Ebury Street offers all of the above. It's all there: the church, the fountain on the square, the little farmers market buzzing with loud butchers and bakers.

Restaurants and pubs permeating the air with the salt and batter scent of their freshly cooked fish n' chips. Walking around the little square, you'll want to try out all of them: the Orange, owned and operated by the same owners as the Thomas Cubitt on the neighboring Elizabeth Street, the Ebury Pub, La Poule au Pot, Daylesford Organic. And they are all within walking distance of each other. 

If you fancy a terrasse lunch or dinner when the weather gets warmer, La Poule au Pot, offers a lovely southern exposure and a prime location on the square. You can enjoy a delicious bowl of onion soup while you marvel at the hundreds of passersby. It's a charming sight, you'll see.

This Ain't No Street Life

I've never been a South Ken kinda girl. Don't get me wrong, there are some delightfully pretty streets and hidden corners in the area, and the superb Michelin Bibendum towering over Old Brompton Road never ceases to amaze me every time I walk by it. The art deco beauty of the monument is a great reminder that London architecture is not all colonial perfection and manicured gardens. But within this fancy and quaint, almost too perfect-for-words residential area, lies a bejeweled street filled with Antique gems, delicious gourmet delis and pip (posh and hip) lounge bars and pubs. 

This wonderfully whimsical street is nothing less than a smaller, less commercial version of the neighboring Knightsbridge Sloane Street. This street is called Walton Street, and it makes for a glamorous Saturday afternoon walk, or even a quick and dirty weekday lunch break.

Start the walk with some fresh and wild Atlantic salmon or a warm and cozy batch of meaty and cheesy lasagna at Jak's . Stay in or take away from this deliciously homey "joint" and you'll want to return every day for the rest of your life. 

For my male zesty readers (I probably lost you at "glamorous"), don't forget to stop by Bentley's Antique shop for an experience yon won't ever forget. You'll want to buy everything on the shelves, from the vintage backgammon boards to the dismantled wooden airplane propellers. You'll even want to bring the smell of old books home with you. 

Of course, you will find the obvious posh Eclipse bar with the obvious banker crowd, but you can also settle for a nice chilled beer at The Enterprise , and especially enjoy it out on their outdoor tables on a warm autumn day.

Burger Mania

I miss New York. Especially right now, I miss New York. I miss the buildings, I miss the smells. I miss Central Park and I miss the leaves turning red. I miss my friends. I miss my favorite restaurants and  my favorite shops. I miss the pumpkin season. I miss Autumn. I miss the food. I miss my old flat. I miss the lower east side. I miss the people. Again, I miss the food. Yeah, I miss the food. A lot. I miss the burgers. I miss the Spotted Pig 's burger, I miss BLT's Burger , I miss The Corner Bistro's burger, I miss Shake Shack , I miss The Burger Joint at The Parker Meridien . Damn. I just miss those burgers. But why why why do I miss them so? It's not like I haven't been enjoying my fair share of burgers here in London. Or sunday roasts and fish n' chips. I mean, I've been to Byron, I've been to the Electric. Those were decent burger experiences. But for some reason, they just weren't good enough. They were good but they were not fantastic. I even caught myself several times comparing them to the New York burgers. Thinking about that one last burger I had at BLT, drooling over them in my thoughts, salivating a teeny bit into the corners of my mouth. Trying to remember why I ever left! In New York, it was kind of an obsession, finding the best burger in town. But that was how you did things there. You took part in the experience. You became a restaurant critic. And you blogged about it. I guess that's what I'm trying to achieve here right now, to no avail really. 

The point of this entry is not to bash London burgers. No no. On the contrary. I have decided to loudly voice my opinion of the best burger in town. And I'm ready to be hung. Flagellated. Tortured. I know, burgers are a topic of discussion that is very close to our hearts. So much so, that we may do things to each other we may end up regretting. So, let me just say, I come in peace. After countless burgers, after numerous tastings, I have found my favorite burger place in London. The Thomas Cubitt pub in Belgravia has me addicted to their burger. That's the truth ladies and gentlemen. London is back in the game and she is ready to fight for her right to burgerville. Last Saturday, I went again with a group of friends and we all had the burger. The look on every one's face was priceless. Oh My God. It was phenomenal. We all smiled. We were full of glee. The table went silent and we just ate, we devoured, we nibbled at every leftover piece on our plates. We wanted another one. It was just too good. Now let me also add that The Thomas Cubitt  on the adorable Elizabeth Street has been categorized in my book as a girl-friendly pub, which means that I give it a big thumbs-up for being clean, bright and full of cool people. In brief, all the more reason to go check it out. Order the burger and you'll forget everything I said about New York being better than London. That's a promise.

The Thomas Cubitt, Elizabeth Street, Belgravia

Sunday Lazy Sundays

Gotta love those lazy London weekends. The ones where you put on your lazy shirt and no one judges you...or do they? Those weekends filled with nothing...well, not nothing, but nearly nothing. Let me explain. No, I am not bumming around, relishing in the freedom of unemployment. And yes, I'm trying very hard to get my act together. My weeks are active and dynamically-charged and jam-packed with the usual gym, blog, job hunt routine. I work very hard at that and I plan on keeping it that way. But stuck in limbo between finishing grad school and starting a career, I find myself, on weekends, to be filled with boundless and incredible energy to do absolutely nothing, especially when nothing consists of lounging around in my new gorgeous and very very adult flat. Veggying out in bed on Saturdays (and Sundays) reading girly mags, surfing the net and the blogosphere. Renting movies from the indie flick Notting Hill Gate Video City. Having friends pop by for some Pringles and tea. Visiting friends/family in Islington. Strolling hapharzardly from Islington to Primrose Hill and making awesomely zesty discoveries without expecting to. Looking forward to Monday mornings so I can blog about them. Then blogging about them. Yeah, it's a nice feeling.

So after all of this ramble and nothing-talk, I must share my unleashed excitement for Primrose Hill. It is absolutely not surprising how, over time, celebrity and non-celebrity residents alike, have chosen it as their neighborhood over any other neighborhood in London. From Kate Moss, Agyness Deyn, Rachel Weisz and Enrique(!), to Spice Girl Geri Halliwell and Jude Law, all have lived at one point or another in this gorgeous area. In my view, this is why: first of all, it is blessed with one of London's most breathtaking views from the top of its hills, beating the LondonEye's view by a landslide. Second, its houses and buildings live and breathe pure Londonness, offering the most exclusive sneak peaks into its residents' living rooms (have I mentioned how much of a voyeur I have become ever since I've moved here?) Third, it offers three of the most important things an area should offer, and those include: an awesome neighborhood pub, a cupcake shop, and last but not least, a gem of a vintage boutique, and all of these are located on one street: Gloucester Avenue!


The pub, for one,  is called the Lansdowne . And this is no ordinary pub. It is what I call a girl-friendly pub, a pub where girls like myself can feel comfortable in and drink a glass of wine, or a half pint of light beer, without getting the evil stare from the beer snob sitting next to you. It is also one of my faves because it offers oh so yummy pizza, with oh so zesty toppings.

The cupcake shop is called Primrose Bakery. It is lovely and delicious and you will love it. Need I say more?  

And this below is Shikasuki Vintage Boutique. These photos speak for themselves. Though I thought I could add a couple of reasons as to why this is a must-go, must-see. As you walk in, you all of a sudden belong to another planet, another world, a place where twirling and zipping back to childhood are not only allowed, but encouraged. There is almost a jewel-like quality to this place. The boudoir, sparkly,  glittery and cozy decor adds to its quirkiness as a clothing-and-other-stuff shop. Because not only will you find all of these dresses that you played dress-up in as a little girl, but you will also end up believing that you are Alice and Shikasuki is your Wonderland.


               Shikasuki Vintage Boutique, Gloucester Avenue, Primrose Hill