London – Eating & Drinking – Pubs & Bars – Pubs
After a cold weather walk in Hyde Park, this pub is a good place to warm up. Stopping in for ale and hot food is just what I needed.
This is the kind of pub that attracts groups of friends with board games available, as well as the lone paper reader in the corner booth. With lots of comfy seating, The Champion invites you to stay in for the duration.
Check out my review of The Champion – I am katmabufay – on Qype
Another Qype event brought me to Salt Bar, a whisky bar on Edgware Road. I’m slowly trying to learn to like whisky. Usually I have to have mine mixed with gingerale. Yet, a pairing of whiskies with traditional Scottish foods sounded intriguing. Talisker Whisky from the Isle of Skye was our host and we sampled three of their whiskies along with salmon blinis, haggis and tatties, and a chocolate mousse. Yes, folks, I tried my first haggis, which was first addressed by a Robert Burns poem:
Address to a Haggis.
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin’-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang’s my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!
Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
‘Bethankit’ hums.
Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect sconner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither’d rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit:
Thro bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He’ll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.
Ye Pow’rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!
What a great little gem! I had no idea this pub was lurking just a street over from my bus route. This is why Qype events are so great–they call attention to places that should be on your radar.
From the time I stepped in for a pint and ordered some chips (with some yummy garlic aioli) to the time I met Henry, the world’s cutest chef, I was smitten.
The atmosphere is intoxicating (yeah yeah, har har) and the food on the plates that passed me looked delish. And while I cant speak for the things I saw (including some rarely seen cuts of meat, hello HEART?!!), I can say the Scotch eggs are worth a nibble. I’d also pull up a chair to the bar and order one of the charcuterie platters, filled with delicate slices of meats and amazing fresh breads.
Yum-o!!
Check out my review of The Coach and Horses – I am katmabufay – on Qype
My dear friend Steffi came to visit me in Amsterdam from her home near Rotterdam. Our day was spent meandering through shops, cafes, a park and almost a museum. During our time, I totally fell in love with Amsterdam. It is charming, easy to get around and English is spoken by nearly everyone. I took a lot of photos on the trip. To see the full set, visit my Amsterdam set on Flickr.
Day one included a hop on-hop off canal boat/bus tour. We started with the amazing Anne Frank house. After winding our ways through the canals a bit, we found ourselves at Albert Cuyp markt in order to find food. Once our bellies were filled, we headed to the Heineken Experience where many Heinekens were sampled. We enjoyed cheering on the boys attempting a perfect pour. After some lessons, Jack got up and did it on his first go!
The folks were headed to Europe on their way to Africa and decided to take a long layover in Amsterdam, which was convenient for me! After two failed attempts to see Amsterdam (due to flights and illness), I had high hopes for this visit.
I arrived at the hotel twenty minutes before they were to leave to find the excursion office for the Red Light District tour they had booked. While I was a bit unsure I really wanted to see the RLD with my parents, once there and we found it was no problem to book me in, I joined. I am *so* glad I did!
There is so much to learn about and see in the RLD. Our tour guide was fantastic. She was funny and smart and has been leading tours for something like ten years, I believe. She many times has to do it in both English and Spanish, but our group that evening all spoke English.
There was a lot of information to take in. Our first stop gave us some intimate details from Mariska, a former prostitute/sex worker who now runs the Amsterdam Prostitution Information Center. She told us about everything from prices, negotiations and how to rent a room/work a shift, to safe sex practices, tax regulations and why they use a red light (leaner, tanner, younger looking and less cellulite — hello I’m buying one now!). It was impressive. I was also surprised to learn that the age span starts at 18 and the oldest is/was 88!
The ladies as we walked through the streets were sometimes playful and sometimes indifferent. When I looked through the windows at some of the younger looking girls, I felt as though they looked back at me like I was judging them. If anything, I was just curious.
My father, somewhat jokingly, asked our guide during the tour: Is this where the term window shopping comes from?
She laughed and said she wasn’t sure. I cannot find anything yet about the origin, but it sure makes sense!
The weather this morning caused a bit of a dilemma. I had an interview in the afternoon. It was only 15min walk, but if the snow was still coming down, what could I wear? I had my suit, but the pant legs would be too long to wear without heels and would get wet and gross. I didnt want to tuck them in boots because they’d wrinkle. I didnt want to wear heels because that was neither comfortable or practical. Fortunately, my mom had brought me the wrong black skirt from my closet (it was close, I asked for a black, knee-length Gap skirt and this fits the description, just not the one I meant) on her last trip over, but it matched close enough to my jacket that I could wear boots.
Then, the boot dilemma. My black boots are the ones that always cause to me slip or fall. I thought it might be icy out. If not, it’d certainly still be wet and slushy and they aren’t waterproof. So E offered to let me wear her rubber boots. Typically I cannot wear any of her shoes. Her feet are smaller than mine. Yet, these were a 40. I can usually wear 40s, and these fit! Hoorah.
But rain boots to an interview??
I decided to suck it up. I could take other shoes and change or I could just get over it and wear the boots proudly. I decided to go with the boots. I talked myself into believing they would show how sensible and practical that I am. They also demonstrated my ability to get to the office regardless of the weather. I also figured that if nothing else, they’d be a great conversation topic.
It never came up, sadly. E’s boots are a pretty chic pair and not really the standard garden variety, literally.
What do you think? Good look, no?
On Sunday, I joined the London Photo Walk group on their afternoon of photographing the area around Brick Lane. The day started at the Ten Bells Pub, known for infamously for being where Jack the Ripper met some of his victims.
The area around Brick Lane is filled with funky offices, galleries, boutiques and homes. Brick Lane, itself, is a mix of Bangladeshi restaurants and shops that turns into a hipster haven of bars, cafes, record shops and vintage markets. On Sundays, however, Brick Lane is filled with people roaming the street stalls for a great find, eating from one of the street food vendors (yum!), or sipping on coffees or lagers while people watching. It is, in short, a fantastic area for taking photographs. The variety of people, architecture, and offerings yields a fantastic array of subjects.
I’m still fascinated by doors and shop windows as photo subjects, but alas my battery did not retain enough charge to allow me as many as shots as I was tempted to take. I also felt like I had the pip-squeak of cameras. Oh well, someday I’ll own some amazing camera with a gazillion lenses. Maybe. Till then, it’s nice to go light and keep it simple.
Photos from the whole group can be found on Pixie.
On Friday I was invited to see a dress rehearsal of Six Degrees of Separation at the Old Vic theatre. It was a small, select audience and we made it into the front row.
I used to live down the road from the Old Vic, but I never ended up attending a play. I kept thinking I would, but it just didnt happen. Then again, I used to think I’d see Kevin Spacey, the Creative Director, drive up on his scooter and wave on his way in to work. Never happened. Oh well.
So there I was in the front row, getting wet from spit, looking up noses and connecting with the eyes of the actors. Wow. It’s intimate. I wish my stomach hadn’t kept growling or my cough hadn’t started to act up. I felt as exposed as the actors on stage.
My review is short: great actors, simple but elegant set and super story. The play also runs complete without intermission, which allowed for the intensity to build.
I cant help but wonder how these actors nailed their American accents so perfectly? How could a couch and table rotating on stage make a backdrop for so many scenes? It is the mystery and delight of great theatre. I have never seen the movie version, however I can only imagine that if one set could convey so much, the movie could only accentuate the well-written script more. A few cues may have been missed, but they were subtle. After all, it was a dress rehearsal with a live audience. It showed where timing needed to be worked out and lights needed to be more on the ball. Still, the errors were minimal–nearly undetected by the ignorant eye.
Overall, I believe the show will be a success for the Old Vic and put Obi Abili on the fast track to success.
In my delight at seeing Priscilla, I put a note on Facebook with an update. From there, another friend let me know he had an extra free ticket to see Legally Blonde, The Musical. Again, this is one of those shows I might have gone to see for a tenner. I liked the movie well enough, but a musical of it? At least I knew how it would end and that it’d be a fairly upbeat show.
I arrived at 7 to find my friend and/or pick up the tickets at the box office if I made it first, which I did. Little did I know that the list we were on was a first-come-first-serve ordeal and we needed to wait in line for whatever tickets we were given. By the time I made it to the line, I saw my friend and he and I stood and waited to get tickets while he explained the show was not yet open and we were there for a sneak preview. Another friend of his does theatre PR and had told him when/where to show up. We proceeded to get tickets, albeit not together, in the grand circle. This, to those who dont know, is in the top of the theatre’s balconies. While the Savoy Theatre is incredibly deep, my friend decided the seats were not to his liking and gave me a hug and left. I sat down and the view from E1 was just fine.
First Act: Lots of pink, squealing and high-pitched and nasal-sounding girls. Bruiser is cute and got just as much of a cheer as Elle did when she appeared. The plot follows closely to the movie script, but with a few subtle changes. The voices were good, but the songs were a bit corny. The comedic timing of the cast was spot-on, while the spotlights were not. I was incredibly disappointed by the lighting and the set design.
During the intermission, the girl who was sitting in front of me wrote a text to someone that basically summed up my thoughts: Better than expected. Sheridan’s (Elle) voice was great. Spotting and design were incredibly rough. Looked like a touring show.
That final sentence was exactly what it looked like. It did feel like a touring show, not a show in its home theatre. They had a great cast, but the sets (especially from our upper view) were lacking polish and we kept seeing the giant trap door opening/closing to raise and lower sets. Anyone in stalls would not have seen it, but I imagine from dress circle you can see it too.
Second Act: Lots of navy, still some squealing (OH MY GOD!), lots of good laughs. The second act was much stronger than the first. I think it might be due to Paulette’s character getting her ‘bend and snap’ on, Brooke’s song and jump rope routine and the UPS man’s entrance being some of the most hilarious moments of the show. We also saw Paulette’s bulldog on stage when she goes to reclaim him from her deadbeat ex–another ‘awwww’ moment from the audience.
In general, it was a fun show. The sets may not have been as sophisticated as others I have seen, but it looks like they spent their money on a spectacular cast, rather than fancy props. I think the show will not win the critics’ hearts, but for pure entertainment, it’s a nice piece of fluff for the rest of us.
