Tag: London

Kensington at the Weekend

“How sweet the morning air is! See how that one little cloud floats like a pink feather from some gigantic flamingo. Now the red rim of the sun pushes itself over the London cloud-bank. It shines on a good many folk, but on none, I dare bet, who are on a stranger errand than you and I. How small we feel with our petty ambitions and strivings in the presence of the great elemental forces of Nature!”
― Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories, Volume I

My old stomping grounds look quite fetching in the spring.

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Flesh & Buns

“What a strange thing!
to be alive
beneath cherry blossoms.”
― Kobayashi Issa, Poems

Flesh & Buns, located in Covent Garden, is a restaurant based on the idea of Japanese after work socializing and partying at Izakayas. It’s a sister project to Bone Daddies, a ramen restaurant decorated with rockabilly art and old Japanese advertising artwork. Flesh & Buns takes the food to the next level by offering more complex food while rock music blasts. Sushi and AD/DC, what is not to like!

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The menu consists of mostly small plates to share (or keep for yourself, as the case may be), plus the signature “flesh and buns.” Steamed buns are constantly in production to be served along a number of kinds of meats that you can slice, dice, and shred to your heart’s content. But I get ahead of myself, because the small plates are delicious.

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We sat at the long table running down the length of the restaurant (communal dining is still all the rage), tucked in our elbows to minimize damage to our neighbors, and went to town on the goods! All the dishes are based on traditional Japanese cuisine, but with gorgeous modern and fusion twists. The grilled sweet potatoes and mixed seafood ceviche were the clear winners, as far as we’re concerned.

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The kitchen is open and just feet to my left, head chef Jo McCafferty was in command, with a pile of steaming bun baskets behind him. It’s fascinating to see a full kitchen in action, with various stations manned by specialist chefs producing the dishes and coordinating them into meals. It might be nerdy, but I like getting behind-the-scenes looks at things, and venues that open up the background to view are always fun to go to.

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Since moving to the UK, I’ve discovered a deep and abiding love for duck (which I frankly never ate much of before), so it was an easy choice to choose the duck breast for our “flesh.” The buns were brought out piping hot and Jeff did the honors of putting the bundles of flavor together.

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I know nothing about sake, but there is a lengthy selection to choose from, and for the virtuous or the disinclined toward alcohol, there are fun alternatives. And as for deserts, there are the weirdest but loveliest concoctions. I had a black sesame creme brulee, and failed utterly to take photos, while Jeff had a sundae made with tea flavored ice cream. We tend to favor solidly sweet deserts so these were a change of pace, but were unusual enough to be a lot of fun and worth a try.

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Flesh & Buns, 41 Earlham St, London WC2H 9LX

Two Words: Customer Loyalty

“Buy what you don’t have yet, or what you really want, which can be mixed with what you already own. Buy only because something excites you, not just for the simple act of shopping.”
― Karl Lagerfeld

Our Easter weekend meanderings was a fascinating example of the best of shop culture that I’ve found in Britain and not found anywhere else. America might be run by consumer culture, but I’ve never lived anywhere that does shops like I’ve found here. On the other hand, I shouldn’t be surprised, Britain has been built on shopkeepers and mercantilism for centuries. But in an age of brand shopping, fast fashion, ready made everything, and general convenience being king, it’s kind of great to see how personal business can be.

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Our first stop of the day was Alexeeva and Jones, to pick up some Easter chocolate. We got to chatting with the woman assisting us, and it turns out that she was one of the founders! I expressed how much I enjoy the fun and unusual chocolates they carry and she immediately asked if I was a repeat customer, and had I been given a discount? Yes, and no respectively. She immediately whipped out her business card and wrote us a personal 10% coupon, no expiry date.

Feeling pretty pleased, we headed up to 282 Portobello Road. I have been on the hunt for a tweed jacket for months and to be frank, most off the rack stuff doesn’t fit me. I’m a petite woman with a short waist, and a definite hourglass figure, but broad ribs. It’s a tricky business finding me any clothing that fits correctly–believe in tailoring, kittens–and I’ve not had a lot of luck with jackets in general.

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As far as I’m concerned, if you’re looking for vintage clothing that focuses on classic British houses, cuts, and tailoring, Claudia is the woman you need to see. I’ve written of my unabashed enthusiasm for her before, but life and work have been so busy for months now and I haven’t had the time to visit old favorite haunts. Well, after months of looking in all the wrong places, I walked into 282, and found a 1950s jacket almost immediately that looked like it was cut to my exact frame. The sleeve length, the lapels, the fit…it’s perfect. As she was ringing us up, Claudia glanced over at us and declared, “You guys have been here before.” We had, but as a mentioned, it hadn’t been in months. I said as much but she just beamed, “I love it when people come back and find something they love.” And she gave me an instant price reduction.

Finally, on Sunday we went to Spitalfields to get a “scotch egg brownie” from Flavourtown Bakery–maker of the finest cupcakes in the city, as determined by SDS Industries. We hang out at Spitalfields regularly on the weekends and have been buying treats from Flavourtown for months. The owner recognizes us, knows our favorites, and makes recommendations. That day was no different except that we had a long chat about how they’ve started supplying two of the most famous department store foodhalls in the city, how one of their lead team members had to leave due to family reasons, and the general ups and downs they’ve experienced. In the end, we bought a box of cupcakes (along with some helpful tips on how best to freeze them so as not to glut ourselves on sugar), and got the last “secret” flavor of the week cupcake thrown in. Pro tip, like them on Facebook, fans get extra treats.

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In rapid succession, I saw how personal relationships build business. As someone who has (believe it or not, based on this post) tried to cut down on a lot of unneeded consumerism in her life, it was an insightful weekend. A woman learned I valued her product and immediately provided me a way to enjoy it more, benefiting us both. Another woman recognized me as a repeat customer who expresses enthusiasm for what she’s enthusiastic about, and helped me get something I’ve wanted for months for just a little bit less. I know I’ll be back to buy from her again, and it has nothing to do with the discount. And finally, a guy who probably enables my sweet tooth too much, and who has countless of customers across multiple markets and shops, takes time to recognize his regulars and engage with them genuinely. As a result, we make it a point to keep coming back to say hi and see how he’s doing. We inevitably come away with a treat.

It’s not just these guys either! Now that the weather is warming up, I’m shopping at markets again and I get recognized by produce stand owners, cheesemongers, and breadmakers. I’ve asked shopkeepers for advice from cloth to cuts of meat and gotten minor educations. I don’t know if it’s the tradition, the relative small size of the country, or just something in the culture, but the British do shops far better than anywhere I’ve lived, and they seem to do a better job about sustaining them as well. It is possible to build a business out of something someone is desperately passionate about here in a way I’ve not found in a lot of other places. I hope I never have to give them up.

Easter Weekend Brunching

“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,” said Piglet at last, “what’s the first thing you say to yourself?”
“What’s for breakfast?” said Pooh. “What do you say, Piglet?”
“I say, I wonder what’s going to happen exciting today?” said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully. “It’s the same thing,” he said.”
― A.A. Milne

A four day weekend meant that we got to get out and spend some time exploring the city with reduced crowds, since a surprising amount of the population heads elsewhere on holiday. The weather is just starting to turn to spring and daylight savings time kicked in so the light lasts long enough to get your vitamin D back on track after months of deprivation. We needed to get out, we needed to do something nice. In short, we needed brunch.

We headed to Grainger & Co. in Notting Hill, a place I’ve wanted to try for ages due to it’s reputation for Ricotta Hotcakes. Because, obviously!

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There are no reservations at this location, and there is normally a huge wait, but thanks to the holiday, we were seated in about 20 minutes. I’ve seen some tourists completely lose their cool over a wait time like that, but for plenty of Londoners that’s a breeze! You spend time talking, you gauge the menu, you chat with the people in line, you charm the staff so they provide you regular updates, you enjoy yourself. We’ve slowed our eating time since moving abroad, and it’s been much for the better.

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I geeked out irrationally over the hot chocolate, made with actual chocolate and milk that you mix together for yourself and sweeten (or not) as you see fit. The last time I had a pot made thus I was in Brussels, so it was a welcome treat to put together.

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A major joy of a long weekend is lack of makeup (minus lipstick of course) and headband you pretend are “workout chic” fashionable.

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Ricotta hotcakes, kids. Don’t just walk, run.

Pancakes as we think of them have only recently started worming their way into Britain. What they think of as pancakes is far closer to crepes in the American view, so occasionally I get a craving that typically cannot be fulfilled without substantial effort on my part (since I’ve only found buttermilk sold in a single store in hilariously small quantities). It’s bothersome, but it gives me a chance to explore when something like this comes along. These hotcakes are fluffy and light but still manage to have a slightly dense and pleasantly chewy aspect to them due to the ricotta. They are incredibly filling, topped with honeycomb butter, and sing when topped with maple syrup (also not terribly find-able in London).

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Jeff went for the “Full Aussie” breakfast which, according to Jeff, is an improvement on the Full English. Either way, I can attest that the sourdough toast is amazing and I have no idea how they get their eggs looking like that but it tastes pretty darn good.

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After brunch we decided to wander Hyde Park a bit and even though some of the trees were still a bit bare…

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Others were over winter.

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But the real highlight was seeing what was in the trees! Several years ago some parakeets escaped captivity and took up residence. Today, they can be found in all the major London parks! I’m sure there’s a valid conversation to be had about invasive species, but I can’t help be be delighted to have finally glimpsed these jewel toned birds finally.

 

Dinner at El Nivel

“One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

The bad news, kittens, is that while I’ve found plenty that is decent, I’ve yet to find solidly amazing Mexican food in London.

The good news is that I might have found something better.

The other week, Jeff and I were both feeling battered from a pretty shattering time at work (which isn’t yet done, alas) and when we looked grimly in the direction of the kitchen and tried to contemplate dinner, realised we just couldn’t. The very idea was hateful. So we hopped online to try and swing a last minute meal. Back before we descended into the work-fog of the last six months, we were pretty good at researching shows we wanted to see, free things to do around the city, and interesting places to eat. We’ve gotten slightly out of the habit so it was gratifying to spend only a few minutes online when we found El Nivel and immediately we made a reservation.

It turned out to be a wise move because El Nivel truly is a hidden gem and getting in is not easy. First of all, it’s housed above another food joint and if you aren’t keeping a sharp eye out, you will miss the door directing you upstairs to food bliss. Second, it is tiny. The whole dining area contained a bar and half a dozen tables, and I’m pretty sure the floor space is about equivalent to our flat, which is saying something. In spite of the size, the place is laid out for chic casual dining and the first floor windows look out over a popular pub and brewery, and slightly into some of the windows of the Adelphi Theatre where I’m pretty sure I caught glimpses of costumes and wigs.

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Blink and you might miss it!

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This is, in essence, the entirety of the restaurant!

The food purports to be Mexican tapas, and it is…but it’s also unabashedly fusion. In a way that sounds like it shouldn’t work but does–gloriously. The menu changes constantly but when we were there, items like “chili verde” were cheerful mixed up with others like “Chinese pancakes.” We just ordered a bunch of stuff and dug in because it all looked (and turned out to be) delicious! The guacamole, for instance, contained strawberries and pomegranate seeds, which turn out to rock the socks off of a humble tortilla chip. Not pictured but noteworthy is the salsa verde…the first proper salsa I have tasted since alighting on these shores and worth a revisit for that alone.

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I heartily recommend the chicken tacos. Little packets of refreshing goodness, with lime, ginger, and fresh pico doing the nicest possible things to your mouth. I ate one and then laid claim to the second of three, telling Jeff he didn’t get a say in the matter. I probably would have eaten all three but he wisely popped his in his mouth before I could get to it.

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I’ve been loving my work, but it is demanding and after some of the days I’ve had, there comes a point where you just need to throw on some lipstick and go on a date.

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Even if your boyfriend seems to be wearing a potted plant as a fascinator. My dining tastes may have improved, the photography to capture them has not.

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Of Kids and Dogs

“Grown ups are complicated creatures, full of quirks and secrets.”
― Roald Dahl

Inspired by a comment chat with the lovely and thoughtful Grace from Culture Life, on one of the weekend links.

I’m turning 29 this year, Jeff is turning 30. In four months we’ll celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary. Depending on who you ask we should have between 0 and 3 children by now. Some people are amazed we married as young as we did, some feel the need to caution us about our dwindling fertility.

Living in Britain means that the latter is a lot less common than when we lived in Utah when multiple people, including total strangers, would ask me about our reproductive plans every week, but it still happens simply because we’re married. It’s a natural progression in the social expectation. In Britain it’s not unusual to partner up but wait until you’re ready to have kids to marry, to have kids before marrying, or some other variation. It’s a lot more more live-and-let-live than the US is in a lot of ways, but family is a topic of conversation for a lot of people I know, particularly working women.

I’ve married a man who definitely wants kids, and who decided at the ripe old age of 23 that he definitely wants to have them with me. (Luckily for all concerned, he still does.) Which means that before we married we had a lot of frank talks on the subject and have maintained a pretty open dialog about the whole thing throughout our married life. One of the things we talk about the most lately is the financial realities of families for people like us. We also talk about about getting a dog.

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It sounds like I’m getting off topic here, but I promise I have a point.

A while back I was speaking to a whip smart agent who works at a major global sales firm. The woman is very nice and always well put together, and I enjoy working with her. She mentioned that she had a dog, a breed that I like, and I asked how she and her husband managed to look after a pet since Jeff and I were interested in having one down the line somewhere. It turned out that she has a dog sitter look after her pup. Every single work day. Her dog needed a nanny.

And lest you think I’m telling this story to make fun of her, I assure you, I’m not. It’s just a reality for a lot of pet owners. Pets take care and if you want a pet you either need to provide it yourself, or ensure someone else is on hand to do it when you can’t.

The parallel to children might seem unflattering towards the latter, but I think it’s a fair one. London is an obscenely expensive city and when I look at my colleagues and coworkers, there are only two options I see for how they manage it. They either 1) make enough money for one parent to stay–or more likely work from–home with the kid(s), meaning they make an awful lot, or 2) they have help. And to make the second option work, that usually requires plenty of money again to be able to afford said help!

Getting this job effectively doubled our income, which has already been an incredibly positive shift for us. I’m still freelancing on the side, but now if we’re smart, we can pay off our remaining student loans within two years. I can’t begin to tell you what a relief it is to say that, because debt (even obtained in a good cause) is terrifying. However, we’re still a few years away from even thinking seriously about having kids. And in that time, we estimate we’d have to double our income again to afford a child because even though we’re bringing in twice as much, it’s not even close to allow one of us to stay home past a maternity/paternity leave–much less afford a nanny five days a week.

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I know some people, in countries all around the world, who can afford to have and maintain a family on a single income. I know far, far more who can’t, and the trend is very much towards the latter from my generation. Wages have not kept up with cost of living and–in spite of what a lot of Boomers like to argue to the contrary–the evidence is that people my age are pretty frugal. Jeff and I sure as hell are! Like a lot of millennials, in spite of working hard (two jobs in my case) we’re swimming in debt which delays a lot of other financial considerations like buying property and cars (two things the American economy has depended on for half a century), investing…and having kids.

Spawning is a complicated topic for me. I’ve written several times about the fact that I’ve never felt a primal urge to have children like I know many women do. In fact, I dislike infants and babies intensely, silly or not childbirth actively frightens me, and human pregnancy looks to my eyes as if we should have tried one or two other evolutionary models before deciding on the one we’ve landed on. Add to the mix my slow and painful breakup with a religion that couches the female experience almost entirely in the language of motherhood, often (in my personal opinion) to the detriment of nearly all other possible life choices/realities for women, and you get some pretty conflicted views.

But financial issues conflict it even more. We won’t have our debt paid off until we’re in our early 30s, and I don’t want to have children in my late 30s. My mother did and even though it was the right choice for her (plus my little sister is pretty darn cute), it’s not an experience I want to repeat. Which means that our window to consider children shrinks every year. I’m personally fine with that, but I work hard to make sure Jeff and I are on the same page about it. We are. We literally cannot afford them.

And I don’t think we’re unusual. In fact, I think we’re the increasing norm.

Weigh in with your thoughts and experiences, kittens. I’m curious to hear them. 

Finally Coming Up For Air

“All happiness depends on courage and work.”
― Honoré de Balzac

Hi, ducklings, I’m alive.

In October last year, I took stock of what I’d achieved with a year in London under my belt and what I wanted to do next. 2014 was my biggest freelance year to date, with my most notable bylines and highest amount earned thus far. But there are unique challenge to working for US clients while based in the UK (not least of which, the currency exchange), and so I decided to push hard to find some actual London based work.

I thought the process of finding opportunities would take a long time. It turned out to take less than a week. In late October I was interviewed for a temporary role as a Marketing and Sales Coordinator for a development firm here in London, and offered it less than 24 hours later. The 19th of December was supposed to be my last day, but they asked me to stick around through the new year, and last week, they officially hired me on in a long term capacity. I’m beyond thrilled to join the team I have, it’s an innovative, design-led company that’s in an exciting phase of expansion with some incredible projects and properties that make my nerdy little history heart flutter.

Nothing wrong with some Victorian chimneys and brickwork.
Nothing wrong with some Victorian chimneys and brickwork.

Some weeks I spend at my desk, organizing reports and spreadsheets, others I put on a hard had and boots and get to go through construction sites and protected historic buildings that we’re renovating and preserving (SO much better than tearing beautiful sites down), and yet others involve heels, LBDs, and events organizing. My baptism (by fire) into the company was throwing an event at Somerset House, a major venue in London, for nearly 80 VIP guests and two weeks to plan. The pace has largely kept up since.

And in the midst of this, I’ve maintained my freelancing. Meaning that after putting in at least nine hours in the main office, I’d come home to more work in the shape of freelance assignments.

Kittens, it’s been a bit brutal. When the most hard working and go-getter woman you’ve ever met says she’s worried about the pace you’re keeping, you know things are looking fairly grim. I literally worked myself sick at one point in January but with the new year (and its attendant rebrands, site overhauls, press releases, and projects) largely put to bed, I’ve been able to come up for air and have a look around. I know we’re a month into it, but consider this my glimpse ahead into the new year.

I’m on track to more than double our income.

We’ve paid off nearly half of our student loans.

We think we’ll be able to pay the other half off with one more year of hard work.

I’ve found the next step to take with my writing and marketing experience.

I finally have the space to work on my own writing projects for the first time in years.

Jeff’s nearly done with his exams.

Everything, as the kids say, is coming up Milhouse.

 

Friday Links (First of 2015 Edition)

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.”
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

Well, hey there, well-beloved-but-desperately-neglected minions! We’re back from the States, back at work, and back at the grindstone. Let’s catch up. Jeff has dived straight into studying for his next round of exams (we’re down to less than a year of this slog), and I’m back freelancing and in the world of London luxury development. The first couple of week of a new year are always a bit hectic, but we might be setting a new record for post-holiday self-destruction. Luckily, there a few things keeping us sane.

We finally coughed up the money for a shiny new laptop that is causing me to coo, “the precious…” every time I open its sleek lid. It’s long overdue. I’ve been using a refurbished laptop we bought for about $400 at least three years ago that’s been getting increasingly clunky and hard to manage over the last year. When I couldn’t have two windows open at the same time without the whole thing freezing, I knew it was time to let Marvin go to his rest. Let’s just hope all my image and music files transfer over alright.

The intrepid Caitlin Kelly is in town and crashing at our place this week as she journeys around the city, conducts research and interview for assignments, and generally puts us all to shame with her pace. Last weekend, completely backward due to jetlag, we all went out on the town and had some much needed adventuring. We ate good food, had great conversations, and did some truly impressive vintage shopping. Caitlin’s got the touch for spotting a deal, let me tell you!

Less immediately important, but still pretty vital, I finally got my local library card and might actually have made headway in getting a British bank account. Long story, will rant later. In the meantime, I’m putting together budget proposals of numbers so high as to give me a nosebleed, working with a grade-A creative team and a world class illustrator, and checking off new items from my list with satisfying ticks. Here are your links, catch me up on your holidays and tell me what you’re up to this weekend in the comments!

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Enjoy a shot from me on assignment in Notting Hill. Much as I whine, life’s pretty decent, kittens.

 

Some people have more…something…than sense. Not sure it’s money.

You lucky ducks, Caitlin is blogging her adventures (plus tips on renting flats in Paris).

Unsure about the background of Tolkien’s mythology? CPG Grey is here to help.

Jezebel gives a pretty good account of the “fluffication” of this history surrounding Empress Elisabeth of Austria.

Headline of the week, I feel.

I barely use my iPod for music anymore, it’s all podcasts through and through, so this list from Medium about interesting podcasts from 2014 (minus Serial, because obviously) hooked me.

Women’s issue news worth sharing and a cause worth supporting.

Since I’m still working in London housing, this is fascinating.

Ah, journalism.

Carmen Sandiego and Oregon Trail forever.

A response that moved me on the attack in Paris, a city where Caitlin is just visiting us from and returning to at the weekend. Thoughts for safety all around, please.

An 18th century time capsule opening.