Charmita!

Had a lovely and charming weekend. Went for dinner a la Amy France on Friday night. She cooked a veritable banquet; Chilli fried squid and chicken satay to start, malaysian curry, noodle salad and rice for main and some frozen dessert who's name escapes me but it had saffron in. It was all so delicious, especially the noodle salad. Rice noodles, scallions, chilli etc etc good sauce ... I'll have to get the recipe. Made me think I should be a bit more adventurous in my asian cooking. I eat asian food every single day but its always exactly the same, why not mix it up a bit? Beef Rengdeng in Brunei was my first ever curry addiction and I should celebrate that I think rather than eating Thai curry everyday ... although obviously now it would be tofu rengdeng. Mmmmmm. After much drinking/shouting/dancing and general merriment (a particular highlight being Henry showing everyone the stiches on his newly circumcised penis, thanks for that) I got a cab round the Brick Lane flat at about 3am and passed out there.

Spent Saturday watching movies (Michael Clayton, good, There Will Be Blood, over my head) and drinking white russians. Party for Brittany's birthday in the evening. Was quite the decadent scene that I'm sure you can imagine for yourself, close, but now with more Smirnoff Ice, now you've got. Ended up getting really rather drunk, collapsed around 5am and then threw up til 3pm Sunday (thats the charming part of the weekend I was referring to earlier). Managed to eat Subway without throwing up at some point in mid afternoon (Wholemeal bread, veggie patty, toasted, cheese, all the salad, no green peppers, no jalapeno, mustard/mayo AMAZING) and that was pretty much the extent of my activites as the clocks went forward an hour and I nearly died. Its days like Sunday that remind me why I gave up drinking for so long.

On a more sombre note, Lizzie rented Big Business, I was so excited about seeing it, then the DVD wouldn't work. Terrible.

Here's a picture of Nancy Reagan. Just because.

She's the Posh Spice of politics.

UPDATE: Amy's dessert was a saffron and orange water semi-fredo. Fancy.

Sa Sa Sushi

Went for dinner last night in Angel with my brother. Went to Sa Sa Sushi on recommendation of Amy France, thank God for it as well because I was really in the mood for sushi and the only place I knew in Angel was Yo!Sushi and everything there tastes the same. I had chef's choice sushi selection, which basically meant a slice of every variety of fish on the planet. Was good, not the best I've ever had but a million miles from being the worst. Just good, quality sushi - which is an achievement in and of itself in this country. Really nice service, after we paid our bill a new waiter asked us if we wanted another beer and was so nice about it for a split second I thought he knew we had already paid and was offering us a beer for free. Its nice up here on my planet. The toilets also smelled exactly like Japan, what's more authentic than that?

Afterwards we went to a bar in Angel and bumped into a bunch of my brother's friends. One of the girls is going to be on the next season of Shipwrecked (reality TV show, I would paste a link but when I try to access the site the browser window shuts so there's probably not a lot of point). Shipwrecked is really bad and all the people in it are really annoying, I watch it religiously and now I have a reason to commit to the new season. So be on the look out for Victoria, she's awesome. She showed me a picture of her boyfriend and he's just about the fittest 'real' person I've ever seen. It was only a head shot, but my what a head. Apparently he's a personal trainer so the rest of him isn't exactly ugly either. Unfortunately he's in Dubai at the moment doing some personal trainer thing, can't wait til he gets back and I can stare endlessly at him and then try and steal him away when I'm drunk. YAY!

I know writing about someone you've just met's boyfriend who you've never met is weird, but the title of this blog didn't happen by accident and he is SO fit. I'm constantly having to resist the urge to tell everyone in the office about it, although everybody already thinks I'm crazy so I may as well just go for it.

UPDATE: I've just remembered why I was so obsessed with last years Shipwrecked, it was all down to the lovely Stuart:

So hot and absolutely no discernable personality whatsoever. I shudder to think about the hours (and I mean HOURS, they were on their islands for FIVE MONTHS) of moronic television I forced my flatmates to endure just so I could catch an occasional glimpse of him - he wasn't in it very much cause he was so boring. Luckily for you I can demonstrate just how boring by the simple act of copying and pasting a Q&A he did:

Q: What attracted you to spend five months on a desert island?
A: The chance to meet some wicked awesome people.

Q: What do you think you will achieve by doing it?
A: I hope to make some awesome friends and work out what I want to do with my life.

Q:What did you think about having to spend so long away from home with complete strangers?
A: I saw it as a wicked opportunity to meet some cool people.

Hmmmmm. I really need to develop better taste in men.

Grrraaarrrrggghhhhhhhhhhh!

Just trying to book a flight to NY online (thats right, I'm actually doing it) and filled in about 600 forms on Opodo only to be blocked from the site as my IT department coniders it to be 'dangerous'. Never mind, I thought, I'll just book straight through the Air France website (AF! how exciting ... 'what's in there?' 'ca c'est la poubelle madame' 'yep, we'll have two of those') and got through to step 678/679 or something only to find that as part of that step I had to enter my passport number. WHY! No terrorist in the world is going to be defeated by an on-line booking system, just poor saps like me who don't need their passport to travel to work everyday. The illusion of safety.

If I actually get to book this it'll be the second flight I've booked in a week. It's like Ratzinger volunteering to officiate at two gay weddings in a week. Planes, evil. Actually planes are awesome, its the flying in them that sucks. Or rather, I guess, the horribly random way in which they crash. Although, having said random, have you ever noticed that planes always seem to come down in threes? Hasn't been one for a while, I'm willing to bet that next time one comes down (PLEASE not end of July/beginning of June) a couple more will swiftly follow.

Mana from the Maldives

My friend Deborah just quit her job and went for a two week detox and relaxation break in the Maldives. She came back slim and tan. Luckily she also brought me presents so I don't have to spend the rest of the week hating her. She brought me fisherman's trousers for me to do yoga in and this dried fruit that you boil and leave to cool and then drink the liquid. Meant to be detoxing and very beneficial. Had it this morning and it was really tasty - very fragrant and tasted of tropical fruits and coconut. It would help if I could put the name but its not avaliable over here and even the mighty google is stumped.

So nice getting gifts from people who've been on holiday, means they were thinking about you while sunning themselves. Great gifts too, I have something of an obsession with trying things I've never consumed before. Its not very often you come across a plant/vegetable that you have absolutely no experience of eating so I get a little frisson of pleasure every time I do. What's a better gift than that?

UPDATE: Called Debs, the fruit is Matoom(?!)

Still alive

Feels like ages since I've written anything on this blog, mostly cause I had the Easter weekend off work and was determined to do NOTHING the entire weekend. Plan pretty much achieved too. Friday I went for lunch with the two Lauras, Jack and Cicely at Ping Pong (ugh) in Notting Hill (UGH). Ping Pong is a chain of Dim Sum restaurants with terrible service and unremarkable, overpriced food (I'm sure you can google yourself up a website) that I've had the misfortune to go to twice. Given a choice I'll never set foot in one again but sometimes you don't get a say in where lunch happens. Notting Hill as we all know is a gross sucking putstule on the face of west London, is the centre of all that is evil and might be the only place in the world I hate more than Chelsea. Actually Chelsea is worse, although Notting Hill is more confusing. The people are worse in Chelsea. hmmmmm this might come to a photo finish. So lunch was (surprise surprise) unremarkable but it was great to see everyone.

We rounded off the Notting Hill portion of the day with a trip to the Hummingbird Bakery 'the American Bakery in London' which basically means they do those cupcakes with two inches of icing on them and then sell them for £2 even though flour, eggs, butter and sugar cost about 6p. Bought a box of five to take to dinner. Got a lift from Laura with Cicley to Bermondsey to go pick up and accomplished this just in time to make dinner at Amy's about 7:30. Just Henry and I round for a kitchen supper. We ate paella, followed by cheese. We then settled in to watch The Passions of Girls Aloud and eat cup cakes. Good cup cakes, oh-so-drunk Sarah Harding, what more could you want? We then watched the first episode of Dirty Sexy Money which truly mined the depths of televisual cliche and characterization. I think I've literally seen every single second of that television show before in little fragments in other TV shows. Dreadful.

After dinner went round to the Brick Lane flat, sparked one up, lay on the couch to watch Planet Earth and pretty much remaind in that position for the rest of the weekend. Perhaps the highlight was realising that despite being Easter Sunday Up Market was still open and lovely Carribean ladies were once again plying their trade, curry was the same experience as ever: despite being very excited about it, the taste out-performed the expectation. I could provide a list of everything I watched over the weekend but as its three days worth its obviously extensive and probably not that interesting. Highlights included The Wire and John Adams (God Bless American television) and the low point was probably the double bill of Queen Latifah movies we watched. We all seemed to have developed something of an obsession with QL and how her entire oeuvre involves teaching the fancies how to chill. Needless to say talking about how ridiculous QL is is a lot funnier than actually watching her. Is it just me or is 'Bringin Down the House' incredibly racist? Judge for yourself [I did write 'yourselves' but then decided I was probably over-estimating my audience].

Guess who's here?

Mr McCain arrived at 10 Downing Street at 0843 GMT, departing just over 45 minutes later. He is now due to hold talks with Conservative leader David Cameron. His brief trip to London is part of a wider tour that has included visits to Iraq, Jordan and Israel. Hurrah!

Exciting that he's here, but sad that its not for very long. I'd never really thought about the fact that if he was President it might be over here a bit more, then again Bush was hardly a regular visitor. Still, I hope he wins and one day I'll find myself on the golf course with John smoking cigars. He'll play a round and I'll go around in the golf cart Martini in hand, Cindy driving obviously, talking about foreign policy. Wouldn't it be great if Cindy was first lady? I don't know if there's ever been a drag queen in the White House before.

Dirty stop out

I haven't been home in five days. I've been staying round a friend's flat on Brick Lane. Started out over the weekend so I could hang out and spend as much time with Rowley as possible. Then a couple of people returned from trips that I wanted to say hi to, so stayed round some more. Then yesterday my boss cheerily announced at 7pm (I'm meant to leave at 5:30pm) 'You should probably come in an hour early tomorrow' so in order to avoid having to get up at six I stayed over again. Luckily I've got a change of clothes at the flat and access to a shower so its not like I've turned into a big pile of stink. But I'm definitely headed in that direction, I pray for home this evening.

Charlie Bartlett

Another movie post, saw Charlie Bartlett on Saturday night/Sunday morning (I was drunk, it was 3am, I didn't make the end). Really enjoyed it even though its the sort of movie I try my hardest to hate. Its too easy to write a script about rich, eccentric, wise beyond their years chracters and the hilarity that ensues when they interact with the real world so I set a very severe standard for anyone who attempts it. 'Charlie' was good though, Robert Downey being very hot (why do I find people more attractive when they have drink problems, WHY?), the car of my dreams (1970 Mercedes Pullman) features very heavily in it and the main guy ('Anton Yelchin' according to imdb, but I have my doubts about the existence of such a name, particualrly in association with someone who expects to be famous) was great and very funny. I rewound the audition scene several times and recommend doing the same. NOW.

Off the chain

I also watched 'Stomp the Yard' and 'Step it up 2 the Street' (see what they did with the '2' there? Don't get it? Its a sequel. Genius). Which means about 4 hours of my Sunday was dedicated to step dancing and about 6 hours was given over to terrible movies (see below). Stomp the Yard wasn't too bad but only really because I found out halfway through that the movie wasn't describing some alternate reality where people danced instead of fighting (like West Side Story) but in fact this reality where people took dancing as seriously as described and tried to act all butch and shit even though what they were basically doing was Chorus Line in a tank top with more stamping. It leant the whole thing an air of insanity and meant lots of discussion during the boring bits (i.e. the bits where they were speaking ebonics and I couldn't understand).

Step it up 2 the Street is a Disney movie about street dancing. Literally no further description is necessary ... you can now run through the entire movie in your head without having to actually see it. Don't forget the tension between the street kids and the rich kids, the struggle of the girl caught in the middle and the message of unity and togetherness at the end.

As for the dancing? Just because you can doesn't mean you should. Four hours of flailing and jerking is a little too much for anyone I think. Problem with street dancing is that everyone basically ends up doing the same thing and at such great speed as to make it repetitive and impenetrable without being in least bit interesting. Too harsh perhaps, I definitely went 'oooh' a couple of times and there were some amazing dancers, but a lot of it was disposable. Good things? Dare I say it? Hot guys. I think it should just be taken for granted from now on that if I've seen a movie and there was a man in it with a pulse then 'hot guys' was an aspect of the film I appreciated. Not such a bad thing I think, I've forgiven many a bad movie simply because during the speaking bits I tuned out and just sat there thinking 'ooooh he's really fit'. Which would make me a terrible film critic, but makes it very easy to get my moneys worth at the cinema. Stomp the Yard was particularly resplendant in the hot man stakes, including Ne-Yo, hello pretty. I tried to post a picture of him but the upload thing is broken ... probably a good thing as I should try and refrain from behaving like a teenage girl as much as possible.

10,000 hours too long

Saw 10,000 BC on Sunday. Three things you should know about the film:

1) There's a voice-over narration
2) There's a bone covered ancient shaman woman
3) Someone comes back from the dead at the end

That's right, its the worst film ever made. Why they're pretending it's set in pre-history when the world it describes has far more in common with Conan the Barbarian I don't know. I have a million bad things to say about this film but since that means this post is potentially infinite I'll just try and say nice things instead. Hmmmmmm, the guy was hot for the last 30minutes of the film (when his top came off). That's pretty much it. That's not even a very nice thing to say since he was hot all the way through The Covenant, with clothes and everything.

Les Trois Garcons

Went to dinner on saturday night at Les Trois Garcons. It was Rowley's farewell dinner before he went off to Afghanistan. Had a great time and a great meal. The restaurant itself is bedecked. I know bedecked isn't an adjective but in order to get across just how sparkly it is I'm forced to go Shakespearean and start giving words new usage. I guess the best way to describe it is like a REALLY upscale TGI Fridays. So instead of a canoe on the wall there'd be a jewel encrusted leopard taxidermy (not a made up example). Oooh look, a picture:

Doesn't really do it justice (no jeweled taxidermy visible) but the antique handbags suspended from the ceiling point in the general direction. Realised after about 45mins of being there that soon I was going to be ejected back into the real and oh-so-drab world and rather than being excited and stimulated by my surroundings I had already accepted it as the norm and now viewed 'outside' as reality's crepuscular cousin. Basically thats what my house is going to look like one day and when I get my way everywhere will.

Had a pre-appetizer of artichoke soup with truffle oil, then scallop soup, then herb-crusted monkfish, then cheese and port. Was all tasty and drenched in butter. I guess its one downfall is the price, but since Rowley paid (on the grounds that he is going to Afghanistan for 6 months to shoot people and therefore will not be able to spend any money, so what's one giant restaurant bill?) I can't really complain. How much? Well my soup was called 'Crème de coquille Saint-Jacques d’Ecosse avec des biscuits Lavosh' and cost £16. Lets just leave it at that. Since there were 5 of us and the meal was started with a bottle of champagne and finished with a bottle of port I dread to think how much Rowley shelled out, thank you sir! Oooh and the service was amazing, I've refused to return to a few Indian restaurants because of overly obsequious service but here I honestly wouldn't have noticed if they'd given me a sponge bath it was so featherlight and efficient.

My favourite part of the restaurant is that the three guys who own it (les trois garcons) all live above the restaurant and share one bed as a beatifully ornamented menage a trois. Tres moderne. They have one of the nicest dressing rooms I've ever seen as well, can't find a picture of it alas, so you'll have to imagine the walnut wood paneling and glass fronted shoe cupboards all by yourself.

Good timing

Why must the world head towards economic meltdown just when I'm starting my career? With that in mind I should probably cling to my current job til my finger nails tear off. Should therefore not have taken the last two days off work 'sick'. My boss might be on the receiving end of a big gift on monday. Or maybe I'll just skip the gift, write GUILTY on my forehead in blood, cover myself in ashes and throw myself naked and weeping at her feet. She'd probably prefer flowers.

Give me bed

I just fell asleep at my desk and I mean asleep. Not head nodding, can't-keep-my-eyes-open asleep, but head back, snoring, drooling (attractive) asleep. To be fair I didn't sleep a lot over the weekend and Corty was over from NY. He's one of my closest friends and his visit unfortunately overlapped with my pre-booked weekend in the country so I tried to maximise the amount of time I could spend with him. Thursday night I stayed up all night drinking with him, hit the shower in my house and then got on the train to the country. Stayed up til 4 with him on Sunday and then 3 last night. Well, I actually stayed up til 2:30 but then had to spend half an hour trying to secure my phone which I dropped in the back of a cab (mission achieved at 1300 hours today). Was great to see him, been about 8 months since his last visit so really I wish I could've sacrificed more sleep. We mostly drank, talked, smoked and went to the Imperial War Museum. Such a great museum, particularly the Holocaust section which never fails to make me INCREDIBLY depressed and disgusted with people as a whole.

Onward! To Monksilver

Had a great weekend staying in the tiny village of Monksilver in Somerset. Its a part of the country I've never been to before. Very nice it was too, rolling hills, sweeping valleys, endless fields. Nothing big or dramatic but all picturesque and english down to its tea-cosey underwear. The best part of the trip was the house and I debated about whether or not I was going to write about it - the more people who know about it the less avaliable it will be. For the sake of providing saintly friends with work distraction I knew I had to write. Its the old Post Office in the village, the living room and dining room dated from the mid-1400s:


I know, what a dump. Just to put it in perspective, I spent the weekend in a couple of rooms where someone would've anxiously awaited news from the battle of Agincourt. Crazy. The bedrooms were much newer, practically a Barratt home:

I mean that's what? 17th century? It was easily one of the nicest houses I've ever been in, great old features sensitively restored and put together with tasteful, modern conveniences. I spent virtually my entire time there working out how I could get enough money to buy the place outright and never leave. Went with seven other people who are all really good friends and basically had the time of our lives. Pub dinner on friday night, walk in the countryside on Saturday morning, watched rugby in the afternoon, then had wine tasting and dinner to celebrate Amy's birthday. Sunday I was extremely hungover and didn't venture much further than the couch. Managed to get to the dinner table about 7 for the worlds largest roast dinner (lamb, mashed potatoes, roast potatoes, roast carrots, roast parsnips, cauliflower cheese, savoy cabbage, mashed carrot and swede ... if we'd cooked it on Friday night there was so much food we wouldn't have needed to cook again). Plus breakfast everday was a full english offering of beans, hashbrowns, bacon, sausages, eggs and toast.

Highlight of the weekend was Saturday night when Henry and Amy cooked an amazing dinner - the Cepe risotto with truffle oil and roasted cubes of celeriac (starter) was the best risotto I've ever had and it wouldn't surprise me if it's the best I'll ever have. The food over the whole weekend was amazing (Henry bought a bucket of crostini with him, a bucket, of crostini, bucket, crostini, crostini, bucket. A bucket of crostini. I think you get the idea) and even better, I didn't cook any of it nor did I even shop for it. I was pretty nifty with the corkscrew though. There was heavy drinking on every night/day and the neighbours HATED us by the time we left and complained on both nights I was there. After the drunken revelry of Friday night there was much discussion on Saturday morning that we may have gone a bit crazy on the alcohol as we had 28 bottles of wine, two bottles of vodka, a bottle of gin, 7 bottles of champagne, 8 Guiness and a case of Magners to get through. On Sunday morning there were 4 bottles of wine and some of the Magners left. Good times.

Things I think about when I'm bored

I wonder if the Chinese government would let me build a huge neo-gothic castle right in the middle of their UNESCO world heritage site.

Asadal

Went to Asadal Korean restaurant in Holborn last night. I'm a big fan of crazy asian food and it doesn't come more crazy or more asian than Korean. Its hard not to be blase about Chinese food, both because it is so ubiquitous and generally of such poor quality. The weirdness and foibles of Japanese and Chinese cooking are pretty widely known now and so hold little excitement. Having said that, last year I went to Bar Shu in Soho and had this cauldron of incredibly spicy Szechuan ducks blood stew with liver, tripe, brain, kitchen sink etc that was pretty stupefying. I was hoping to give the Korean names for what I ate last night but I'm a victim of the worlds most poitnlessly aggressive web filtering system and a Korean Menu is apparently a 'Dangerous File' and my IT department have been alerted (pity for a moment the poor IT department gremlins who have to register my daily incursions into outlawed territory, bearing in mind I'm the sort of person who thinks 'hmmmm 'horse shags baby', I wonder what that looks like' and our system classes Craig's List as pornography).

Anywho we started off with a Kimchi selection which was great - tasty and spicy, probably the best I've ever had (which isn't saying much as most Kimchi I eat comes out of jars/bottles/packets/bins). We then all shared a 'large' seafood barbeque which was cooked at the table. I guess if you ate the whole thing yourself you'd be reasonably full but it wasn't exactly a groaning tray of libidinous temptation. I followed it up with some cold noodles in spicy sauce, which were £8 ... a bit steep for unidentified vegetable, noodles, half a boiled egg and some 'spicy' sauce. It was spicy in the same way that crisps are 'spicy' - there's some bizarre flavour going on but no actual evidence of chilli. All in all it was pretty good although a little over priced. I definitely could have ordered better (Brittany had this amazing looking bowl of salad, rice and raw salmon) and if I wasn't a stupid vegetarian there were some very exciting raw beef options.

I probably wouldn't go back, there are casseroles as mains that cost £30! Thats the cost of a three course set lunch at one of Gordon Ramsey's places. With most food I want to eat like a local peasant - tasty, fresh and cheap. So easy to achieve with Korean where ingrediants such as cabbage and chilli cost virtually nothing (especially if weighed up against how delicious they are) and I don't really see where the massive cost comes in. I might be getting a job in Kazakhstan and have read that there is a large Korean population there and many restaurants. VERY exciting.

No one has it better

This is my morning so far: got up at 7:30, got on my bike, cycled from Clapham Junction to Brick Lane, all along the south bank, passed the houses of parliament glowing in the morning sunshine. Had a shower, bought some fruit. Came into the office, made myself some fruit salad with no fat yoghurt, a cup of coffee and a glass of water. Sat eating breakfast while catching up on news/gossip and now writing this blog. It might be the endorphins from the cycling but is there really any better start to the day? If it wasn't for the fact that I've now got to go read 467 documents (not an exaggeration, an actual number) I'd say I have the best life of anyone ever. As it is I'm happy to just have the best morning routine ever.

Le Weekend

Not a very busy weekend and that was mostly due to the fact that I went to a cocktail party on Saturday night and stayed up drinking and dancing til 4am, had such a good time. It was to celebrate Henry and Craig's one year anniversary and Craig's birthday. All of London's glitterati were there (all our drunk friends) drinking Flirtinis (cava, vodka, pineapple juice). However, above and beyond providing a fun environment and huge amounts of booze, serious respect has to be paid to Henry for catering the thing. He cooked all the food by himself and this is what he served:

Scallop on the shell
Endive with Onion-Ricotta filling
Runner beans and hummus
Roast pepper crostini
Skewered prawns
Puff Pastry Twists
Parmesan Biscuits
Potato skins stuffed with sweetcorn and cheddar cheese
Spicy Roast Nuts
Sweet Potato & Pesto Bites
Tandoori Chicken Skewers
Coconut Rice wrapped in cucumber with satay sauce
Baby potatoes with caviar and creme fraiche
Crostini with avocado and pea hummus
Cocktail Sausages
Halloumi bites
Spicy party popcorn
Pastry cases with bean puree and mini roasted tomatoes

I think its worth pointing out that all was cooked from scratch as well. Tandoori chicken skewers doesn't mean open packet, reheat but marinade meat, soak skewers and grill. Amazing. If you came to party at my house you'd seriously be lucky if there was a bag of chips (still in bag) and salsa (still in jar). The coconut rice things were the best, balls of rice wrapped in strips of cucumber speared with a cocktail stick and some coriander. Refreshing and tasty. Needless to say it was all delicious and I ate my own bodyweight in canapes. I deliberately hadn't eaten all day so I don't feel too bad about it. Made salmon curry to soothe the hangover on sunday. Mmmmmmm.