Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts

Friday, May 4, 2012

Hmm


18 January 2012

A photo, taken the morning I handed our keys back to the landlord for our little flat in Robert's Court. I decided to take the Boris bike to work that day, a last for a while. Just before I picked up my bike from the docking station, I stood for a while in the morning sun pondering this serene setting before me. A path I pass everyday, capturing endless photographs, and people ask me why I keep taking photos of the same scene.

"It looks different everyday" I tell them.

It's hard to imagine! i know.

 
if you look closely, it is same same but different. In winter, when the canal ices over. In spring, when the reeds heave in pink and marigold yellow hues. In summer, where people huddle over buckets of beers and smiling people wave hello from their boats with the smell of a summer barbeque in the breeze. In autumn, where happy feet crunch on red and golden leaves.

 At that moment, I felt like I didn't want to leave. Tellement, un coup de coeur ma 'petite' ville.


Hi London , I miss you lots today.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Twilight

Some days, one spots that little window of twilight. It flips by so quickly in this part of the world, people barely notice it. Life, in the like has many moments like these. And all I can think about these days, is how glad I am to be back to savour these moments, however long they may be with my loved ones.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

The truth about vegetables

7 days into our new life, we're still trying desperately to bat off jet lag, and acclimatize to the weather. The walk, however short, to the office, is a sweltering one. Heat. It really wraps around you like a blanket the minute you step into the open air.

Food. I never thought I'd say this, but I miss the food in London, very much. The food here, quick, excellent, readily available, cheap - but how is it that we can walk into a mall that has more eateries than all the rest of the shops combined together, comb the building and walk out, lamenting that 'there is nothing to eat!'  We morosely chewed on chicken rice from across the road (as good, and fat as it was) and nodded in agreement that we needed our kitchen really soon.

Earthy roots and bulbs ...



Colours of nature...

Maltby street - how i've missed you!!!

I hadn't realised what it was that was missing from my diet but at the team lunch today, my eyes turned their attention to a list that is otherwise ALWAYS disregarded - the salad. Trying not to be poncy, my mind tried to say 'burger and chips, burger and chips' but my moment of joy came as I chomped happily on my raw greens and blue cheese. Did I think I'd find so much satisfaction in a plate of leaves? I never thought I'd live to see this day.

PS: The Bank, please stop marinating your avocados in whatever you are steeping them in, it tastes awful.

-::-



A trip to the wet market is on the cards very soon. And although this photo was taken in the Barcelona market in Summer of 2011, I reminisce little of this market other than the abundance of jamon and cheese. As for Fruit - the tropics kicks backside, lah.

29.02.2012 - the day everything changed

As many of would know, life has been abit of a whirlwind since the beginning of 2012. 2012, a remarkable year thus far, with an abundance of events and anecdotes in life (both large and small), to be very thankful for.

After struggling to manage a long distance relationship for 6 long years, commuting first 10,000km twice a year, then 500km once a month for the last 5 years, I am happy to announce that we are finally pressing the pause button on this commute. This also means that we have had to make a move from cities that we both love, to begin, what I hope will be a new life together.

So just before I get too comfortable in my new passenger's seat, I decided to dig up some fond memories of farewells and endearing moments of this place that's helped me grow up, and of the city I've grown to love.

The final 7 days

Ba Shan in Soho - just about my favourite place for Chinese, when I arrived for my 'last supper', the serving lady asked me for the first time if  I had been to Ba Shan before. I laughed and joked with her about how i've been frequenting the joint for the last few years but I'm being asked this question ironically, on my last night in London. There is never a dull moment in this place.

And if anyone can tell me why the flags and banners with slogans from Maos have arabic inscriptions and what they say, your next dinner at Ba Shan is on me.


"C" for Coven and City Caphe


A 24 hour trip to Haarlam to witness a beautiful ceremony in a glasshouse by the lake.

Two failed attempts on a work day, but finally, a little peak into the eccentric Lucien Freud at the National Portrait Gallery.


The Big Easter Egg Hunt in Covent Garden this year, happily toppling over outside Kate Spade.


The beautiful Osseau region of the Pyrenees - of Osseau Iraty fame (to me at least).


Gourette - Skiing and beautiful huskies snoozing about after a morning of dog sledding duties.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Autumn in Kensington Palace, an evening of fashion and fairy tales

WHAT DO PRINCESSES DREAM OF?

The Candle's burnt out long before the legend ever will.



Kensington Gardens November 2011

The last two months have been a bit of a whirlwind and there are lots of bits bubbling here and there, and having had to move out of my flat, relying on the kindness of friends who are putting me up in their lovely home in Clapham, I really couldn't ask for me - and thus the lack of updates. I digress.

Last autumn we visited the Kensington Palace for the 'Enchanted Palace' installation. 
A beautifully crafted view of the royal residence, bringing to life the history of royals who have inhabited Kensington Palace.
Each room was themed, each representing a princess who lived, and died, often of a tragic death. It was a quest and a little adventure to guess which princess the room was designed for.

 Brilliant lighting by Chris Levine


A dress for a rebellious princess 
 The room of lost children


Peter, the Wild Boy 

the room of dancing princesses


Magical. Exquisite. Whimsical. Mysterious.

 

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Guy Fawkes Night

Remember, Remember, the 5th of November
-V for Vendetta





Pipi and I trooped up to Primrose Hill last night with the hopes of catching the fireworks all around London. You see, Primrose Hill gives a panoramic view of London, from Battersea all the way to Victoria Park, the lights and fireworks were going off all around in the distance. With the aroma of mulled wine and the burning scent of sparklers, it was such a festive evening. However, the evening drew to an early close as it start spitting a little and it got foggy - bits of light and sparkle disappeared behind the red autumn sky. Nonetheless, I plodded on to the Speakeasy next door to our flat to see other friends and share some cocktails (Oh Gosh!).

Tonight, however, I was pottering about the flat watching last night's re-run of X Factor and I saw night sky light up from the City of London. I don't know whether these were the London Bridge fireworks (they probably were), but I admired the beautiful unobstructed display of colour, light and sparkle from our flat in Islington. With the City of London and St Peter's church in the background, and a mug of hot chocolate in my hand, I felt for the moment, truly content, and so very very lucky to be here.



Sunday, October 9, 2011

Un weekend anglais


As we turn into autumn, and enjoy the last of 2011's flowers
....wispy reeds along the edge of lakes in Regent's Park

we make our way towards little antique markets admire vintage tea cups..

  

potter off to the market to acquire some sweet end of summer confiture...


to share home made Delia inspired mini scones over a pot of tea and natter with friends..



Here's a typical October weekend in our little neighbourhood in Angel Islington.
Camden Passage 2011

Friday, October 7, 2011

The last sunny Friday


Naxos, 2011

As I tap away at work on the first Friday afternoon of the month, I couldn't help but notice that the sun is absolutely blazing and with clear blue skies. Feels like summer, and it does put you in a 'holiday' mood. Think big white brollies, pink vespa, blue skies. For that, a little photo from the lush island of Naxos off Greece.

Looks are deceiving -- it's just 14 degrees outside, but it's my favourite kind of weather.

TGIF !

Friday, July 22, 2011

What you can buy with love

"i Cant buy too much with money, money can't buy me love" 
-- the Beatles

I spent the evening at a farewell party of an ex-colleague. She is embarking on a new life path -- Art Therapy. She's put on some weight, has a smile on her face, dyed her hair blonde, but she's never strayed from good old Jill.

Seeing old faces, old habits, reminiscing on old friendships--- There are some I'd like to keep, and some whom I wouldn't spend the time of day to cherish. People watch me closely, and wonder, why I return, whether I have regrets, why I keep friendships or kinships with friends of 40 or 50. Yes, they may not be fashionable, yes they may not be the most 'appropriate', we will one day all be but 40 or 50. Youth wastes no time on men. These friends, they are the ones with the best life lessons, and most dear to me. And for one, I will be heading up to Nottingham. To visit a friend who is close to my heart, and has been in a severe car accident. He remembers some people, he forget those most recent and dear to him. People tell me, he asks for a pint of beer, he asks to return back to S co, he asks to go home, he wants to go to the races, to see his horses.  He doesn't remember the accident, he doesn't remember what happened. Most of all, he doesn't remember Heather, nor her family.

I hope that when we meet one day, he'd remember his life, his past and the good and bad times that time we've shared, and most of all, that he'd remember our friendship.

Paul, Get well soon. We're rooting for you.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Weekend sunshines

Sunshine streaming through the bedroom window, orchid petals fluttering in the soft breeze, post-Saturday party silence on the streets, and your loved one beside you -- one couldn't ask for more.

Monday, July 11, 2011

La fête nationale


In light of Bastille Day this coming Thursday, a little group of us trooped up to our local pub, the Charles Lamb for some french festivities.
Petanque, pastis, st germain, rillet, cassoulet and all things french but yummy, we lazed about in the sun with Masha the dog, and some very embarassing boules skills.

New words learnt:

To fanny (mettre fanny)


To beat one's opponents 13 to 0. The figure of a bare-bottomed lass named Fanny is ubiquitous in Provence wherever pétanque is played. It is traditional that when a player loses 13 to 0 it is said that “il est fanny” (he's fanny) or “il a fait fanny” (he made fanny), and that he has to kiss the bottom of a girl called Fanny. Since there is rarely an obliging Fanny's behind handy, there is usually a substitute picture, woodcarving or pottery so that Fanny’s bottom is available. More often, the team which made "fanny" has to offer a beverage to the winning team (see the French popular expression "Fanny paie à boire !").




Merci wikipedia. ;)

Have you found your beret yet?

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

How much is that doggy in the window ?

This is the cutest little jack russell i've seen in a long time basking in the afternoon sun. We dropped by the car to check some bits, and came back an hour later. There he was (still), lounging on the window sill.

Angel, 3 Jul 2011

Thursday, June 30, 2011

The end of Q2 183/365

 
May 2010

So today marks the end of the first half of the year. Every year, we ask ourselves, where has it gone? 

I've let the blog go quiet for the last month or so, I had been juggling exams and grappling with some personal issues.

I received, what some would deem as 'life changing' news about 6 weeks ago, the day before my last entry. The episode is finally over, and has been for over a week. Decisions were made, life went on, and here I am, quite the same - only with the hindsight realisation that perhaps in life,

....every issue is only as big as you make it out to be.
....every problem is only as insurmountable as you would believe it to be.
....every pang of guilt is only as painful as you allow it to be.

Most importantly, every day can only be as happy, as you would want it to be. With pleasure of time, all sorrows will pass, and all scars will heal. Shakespeare was right you see, 'to be or not to be', that really is the true question. I wish you all well in Q3.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Ronnie Scotts 97/365


Last night, Ruth kindly arranged for us to see the legendery (so we were told) McCoy Tyner Quartert at Ronnie Scotts. An slight elderly man in a white suit shuffled through the stage doors and settled at the piano. As he introduced himself, you could almost hear the awestruck silence in the room (slightly odd!).

Watching him and listening to his music was mesmerizing. Slightly whismical with very diverse and international musical  influence, it was an interesting night to say the least. He had a very unusual percussive left hand, and had an improvisation style that was, to me, somwhere between a jazzy Bela Bartok and a funky Debussy, with a latin twist. Very dramatic, very progressive.  At some point in the evening, I asked Ruth whether slipping between the keys was intentional on his part as it sounded really odd; she told me that it could be age. He is after all, 73!



His finale which was named Blues around the corner was unforgettable --  if only you heard it :)

McCoy Tyner – piano, Gary Bartz – sax, Francisco Mela - drums, Gerald Cannon – bass


Ronnie Scotts
47 Firth Street
London W1D 4HT














Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Spring time 96/365

I almost feel like we've missed it and rolled straight into summer. It's still slightly chilly at night, I wouldn't exactly say we've got balmy evenings, but it drives me nuts when people keep saying 'i can't wait for summer to come'.  Or that the weather should be like this 'all year round'. Before I get started on waxing lyrical about why seasons are brilliant, and mother nature's way of saying life is every changing, honestly stop, and just smell the roses (pun intended).

The first colours, the first birds, the new sunrise, the first day of warm sunshine, the first blooms, the first daffodils, the budding fruit, the hay fever. Ahh, sweet spring, I've missed you so!

Friday, April 1, 2011

Young Turks @ The Loft 91/365


Where do I begin?

Perhaps I should start with saying thank you to my foodie friend Goz for a seating at The Loft .

 Some time ago, I had the pleasure of savouring the posh bacon and eggs by Ben Greeno during dinner. So when Goz mailed me about some seats he had for the Young Turks, a collaboration between Isaac McHale, James Lowe and Ben Grenno, at the Nuno Mendes' Loft Project. I could hardly say no!

Freda and I rolled up to Kingsland Road after a long Thursday at work not knowing what to expect being novices in 'guerilla' dining (as I'd call it). We were welcomed by Chris and Dan of the Clove Club with a rhubarb prosecco fizz, and nibbles -- Gem Lettuce, Curd & Anchovy, Smoked Cod's Roe with an oat tuille (this was sublime and my favourite!!), and cured middle white fat (cured for 14 months?) and ham (18 months, I think).

The Loft which is situate off the rather industrial looking side of Kingsland Road is a charm. High ceilings, exposed brick walls (I have an incredible weekness for this!), long tables, spring blooms perched in white pots, an open kitchen where the chefs and their team laboured through the evening to plate up beautiful morsels of food. Front of house made sure everyone was taken care of and topped up intermittently. The wine pairing was interesting and it added an additional dimension to the entire experience.

There was loads of natter between the diners (it was really great meeting uber supperclub enthusiast Miguel from Portugal, Wenlin and her husband Amir), and the chefs were happy to mingle and chat (both before, during and after diner) and didn't really oppose to anyone peeking and peering at the preparations. It was clear that it was going to be an evening of communal dining amongst people with one similar passion - food. OK, so this was definitely an obvious point but hey, i'm new at this, and I have to say, I was slightly in awe !


Moving on:

L-R from the Top

Duck Egg, Ramson and Snails (Chateau de Roquefort ' Petit Sale' (2010))

I am easily excitable. Snails, eggs, and garlic are easily on my list of top favourite food types / ingrediants. Except, I've never had it altogether on a plate. Duck Egg sousvided? or poached? It was a huge yolk perched on a slice of sourdough toast, snails and a green garlicky sauce which absolutely blew me away. Tonight, it was also a botanical lesson unlike any other for me.

Ramsons, as I soon found out later that evening, is also known as buckrams, wild garlic, broad-leaved garlic, wood garlic or bear garlic. It is a wild relative of chives and is a favourite of the wild boar. Thank you wikipedia.
Raw Beef Rib, Oyster and Chickweed (Vignobles Guillaume Pino Noir (2008))
This second dish, as my Portuguese dining partner pointed out, was an interesting twist on the french steak tartare. I already said i'm easily excitable -- raw beef, oysters, breadcrumbs fried in fat...ick. Fat. Oysters. Beef. ipercholestoral maybe, but again, a winning combination for me. What was interesting here was the the oysters were in fact infused into a mouse of sorts that was delicately piped onto the plate. The beef had much more of a bite (which I thoroughly enjoyed) than its slightly more mushy cousin across the channel (possibly from the raw egg). the neighbour on my right (as I soon found out was the 'mother of the chef'),  Isaac's quivered a little at the redness of the beef but thoroughly enjoyed the other courses. Clearly, a mother so proud of her son :)

Chickweed, I now know, is an annual herb, widespread in temperate zones. Most are succulent and have white flowers, is edible (obviously) and has medicinal value. altnature.com tells me that they exhibit a very interesting trait, they sleep every night, hence termed the 'Sleep of Plants', and the leaves fold over its tender buds and new shoots.


Beetroot, Iced Goat's Milk and Pickled Elderberries (Domaine Gerard Metz 'Eldelrwicker' (2009))
This was an interesting and very original dish. It was kind of a cross between a savoury dish and a dessert. I am loving beetroot at the moment and the iced goat's milk reminded me fondly of ice kachang (a shaved ice dessert) back home.If i didn't know better i'd have thought that the dainty white mound was icing sugar. Right. I am personally not a big fan of a goat's by-produce - milk / cheese but I gave it a go and found this to be a very clever dish with intense flavours.

Jersey Royals, Monk's Beard and Crab (Pierre Cros Minervois Blanc (2010))
I didn't quite expect potatoes this evening (based on the previous dishes). It was comfort food with the most amazingly flavoured crab(or seafood?) cream. Was the potato cooked in broth? This chowder reminded me of the seaside and Noirmoitier. I almost can't wait for summer to arrive now. ;)

Monk's Beard, also known as Barba di frate, I was told had flavours that were sort of a cross between seaweed and spinach. Looking at it on the plate and picking it out with my fork, it looked almost abit like some of the saltwater plants we used to study in water (fish) tanks during science classes."How DARE YOU!?" some might say. But it was a really clever complement to the dish  - it reminded me of the sea.

Ok, so http://recipetips.com/ tells me that this is a type of chicory common in Tuscany, Italy where the Cappuccino monks began growing this vegetable green which ultimately became named for their efforts in raising it. With a short season lasting for only five weeks or so, Monk's Beard develops into a thin leafy green with a long white stem.

Chicken, Rye, Hop shoots and Green Onions (Domaine Boudau 'Le Clos' (2009))
I could not believe the chicken in this dish. So moist, so tender, it was unreal. I was heaving from the 4 earlier dishes by this point but still, I cleared my plate. This dish, though many would think is simple and rustic in flavour, chicken, grains, shoots and green onion (did we taste some mushroom in it?) -- kinda like a rustic english risotto but boy was this spectacular. In terms of flavour, this dish has no words. Suffice it to say, the earthiness (and chickeniness [I already said, there are no words]) was phenomenal. It blew me away.

This, together with the first dish were the stars of the day for me.

At one point, someone passed round a packet of what looked like a bunch of dried out skinny asparagus. The knowledgeable diners told me nope, it was hop shoots. It had an amazing grassy fragrance. I swear, one could almost get high on it.

Hop. Sounds familiar? Wikipedia tells me that it is a small genus of flowering plants native to temperate regions of the Northern Hemisphere. It is a perennial herbaceous plant which sends up new shoots in early spring (until the end of May) and dies back to the cold-hardy rhizone in autumnT. he female flowers (often called "cones") of H. lupulus are known as hops, and are used as a culinary flavoring and stabilizer, especially in the brewing of beer. The hop is part of the family Cannabaceae, which also includes the genera Cannabis (hemp), and Celtis (hackberries).

Ok, do we understand now why one might get slightly loopey on it?

Hop shoots grow very rapidly and at the peak of growth can grow 20 to 50 cm per week. Hop bines climb by wrapping clockwise around anything within reach, and individual bines typically grow between 2 to 15m depending on what is available to grow on.  When the hop bines run out of material to climb, horizontal shoots sprout between the leaves of the main stem to form a network of stems wound round each other.

Chocolate Malt Ice Cream and Cascara Jelly (The Kernal, Imperial Brown Stout)

I have to confess that by dessert, even though I was bursting at the seams, I was expecting something really punchy and explosive. Normally, it decides whether a spot is sealed in ultimate food heaven at the end of the evening. That said, the verdict: delightful, and a lovely light finish to the evening.

There was a murmur that the cascara had something to do with coffee. The jelly had such delicate flavour, my very undiscerning palate could barely taste it. Was it there for texture? hmm...but using the very cliche phrase, it made the dessert 'come together'. The ice cream was velvety and smooth and I'd be happy to chow down a pot of it anyday. Even though the flavour of the jelly was subtle,  it really did add something of  a je ne sais quoi in the dessert.

Cascara. When I first googled what it was, the top hit said it was a herb with laxative propreties. hmm...upon further research this morning, http://hasbean.co.uk/ told me that Cascara is the dried fruit from the coffee 'cherry', the seed from which is the coffee 'bean' as we know it. Normally this is a waste product or at best is used to fertilise the ground by breaking it down. But it can be used to brew a delicious and refreshing caffeinated drink.


If you are still here reading, you can probably tell from the length of this post that this experience, to say the very least, was really really exceptional.

Details
http://youngturks.co/event/youngturks-theloft/

Quebec Wharf 315 Kingsland Road London E8 4DJ