Photo-whoring in our twenties, fifties and sixties.
Dad with his raisin "flute" at Le Pain Quotidien.
It almost seems like a ritual now to feed the swans at Hyde Park. Referencing monkeys at MacRitchie Reservior, gee, are we still allowed to do that?
The Trenchies were out in full force on a glorious morning at Hyde Park.
Too beautiful deep red tulips.
A whole hog at Camden Market.
Fantastic Turkish spinach and yogurt rolls at Camden Market.
Mille-Feuilles and I at Laduree
Thank you for having us, London. My family had a fantastic vacation and we hope you continue to keep the pound accomodatingly low. I'm rubbing my crystal ball hard and I see a vague vision of you next year.
On my last day in London, I finally met up with an old friend, Aizhen and her other half, Gavin, who took Yang and I to a traditionally, un-London meal at Wahaca. For someone who didn’t know the difference between taquitos and tostadas, I was caught off by how much I loved this meal.
This is my er, third time having Mexican food but by far, the first time I actually enjoyed it - so much so that when the ash cloud threatened to shut down Heathrow, the first thought that came to my mind was, Ash Cloud = Covent Garden + Mexican food. My priorities are spot-on, I know. Like a bucket of cold water raining down on my Cinco de Mayo, I was naturally kind of crushed when that didn't happen.
The restaurant doesn’t take reservations and at 2:30 pm, we waited for about 25 minutes before being “buzzed” to a table. Wahaca had just launched their new summer menu and it was a fatally delicious-sounding menu. We left the ordering mostly to Gavin which was a wise decision as left to me, I would have probably ordered one of everything. It's care and share time, folks!
During this time, we found ourselves in the good company of airy-light pork scratchings and guacamole, and later, tomato salsa with restaurant-cooked tortilla chips. While eating, a revelation the size of Beyonce’s engagement ring hit me, Hey, this is gooood … serious “freshly-made” stuff… doesn’t feel like it was poured out of a can or supermarket value-pack! Holy guacamoley indeedo.
And thus began the journey of a reckless abandonment…
Their MSC* cerviche tostadas were pretty incredible. Toasted crisp mini discs corn tortillas, heaped with a bounty of shrimp and scallops cerviche, habaneros, lime, mint and tomato salsa.
* MSC – certified sustainable fishing
Also awesome were the taquitos, cigar-shaped corn tortillas, stuffed with marinated chicken, drizzled with crema and topped with shredded lettuce, Lancashire cheese and tomato salsa. Cue You-had-me-at-cliché-Jerry-Maguire-movie-line, please.
Something more familiar were the quesadillas, toasted tortillas filled with melted cheese and chipotle chicken. But just because there are bastardised versions out there doesn’t mean it had outstayed its welcome.
One of the ‘Street Food Specials’ we had was their grilled cactus taco with courgette and cheese. Cactus, unlike alot of alien stuff, doesn’t taste like chicken; it tasted EVEN better given the Wahaca-treatment
The Sonora salad is probably the Superbowl of all salads I’ve had so far – diced avocado, pumpkin seeds, beans, British organic spelt and cos lettuce in a tortilla shell with chargrilled steak. I think I was getting a little depressed about leaving London the next day and subconsciously ate my sorrows through the giga-calorific deep-fried tortilla bowl. Not my finest moment but no regrets as well.
At the end of the meal, we ran an unregulated election and voted for our favourite dish. Unlike the recent British elections, the clear winner was the Baja-California fish tacos, which sounds a lot like a coalition dish though with clear motives – bang-on flavour and yumminess (lame word, I know).
Breadcrumbed, then deep-fried goujons (like fish fingers mmm) in tacos, slathered with chipotle mayonnaise and tomato salsa. Joining them were mini ramekins of black beans rice and spicy slaw.
Unsurprisingly, the crowds didn’t thin out in the late afternoon and there was a pleasant buzz throughout our meal. In tune with the culture’s warm disposition , we had great pre-, during and post-meal service. Winner of Masterchef 2005, Thomasina Miers’s take on Mexican market fooding is one place I’m definitely coming back to.
Hummingbird Bakery prides themselves in New-York style cupcakes made with natural ingredients and free range eggs. Their cupcakes, while pretty, didn't send me hooting about like a freedom-found chicken as they were a little too dry.
However, that didn't stop me from scarfing down a couple of cuppas - double chocolate cupcake and carrot - at 7AM in the morning.
A market stacked with home-made, farm-grown goodness is a wee awesome place to start the weekend. Borough Market is undeniably one of my favouritest places in London. Do come with an empty gut or you will find yourself fighting a losing battle.
How I wish I could stuff my luggage full of treats and share it all with you back at home.
I just wanted to let you know that while we were stuffing our faces, I kept you guys in my thoughts - maybe that's why I was eating for so many of you.
Salt beef baguette
Roasted pork loin with apple sauce sandwich
Cross-section of the roasted pork loin sandwich
Skate and chips that was an interesting alternative to cod or haddock and chips
It has taken me quite while to get excited over this trip but I can say for sure that now I am supremely excited about:
- 5-18 degrees celsius weather - hello trenchie! - visiting Borough Market - exploring Camden Town - tottering about Chelsea - catching Wicked - throwing myself into a plethora of speakeasy, knick knack boutiques down London's kooky lanes - unearthing antique accessories in Brussels - shoulderpad-rubbing Antwerp's fashion-yo scene - Dries Van Norten (I wish, bah!) - stargazing in 3* Comme Chez Soi - relishing liege waffles - going loco over cocoa in Brugge
One of my oldest friends, Aizhen and I arranged to met up in London and we decided to head down to somewhere both of us hardly knew about- Spitalfields Market. I had never been there and she only once, despite being based in London for the last couple of years.
Entering Spitalfields, one would have a glimspe of what commercialism would do to the place as chic boutiques and eateries lined its sideways and cornestones. However, moving past those, the trader markts offers a more interesting experience.
Away from Barcode Land, Spitalfields Traders Market is the place to visit. The market opens 5 days a week but Sunday's market is the biggest. I thought the traders market was extremely interesting as it boasted a collective collage of ethnic minorities. Sidenote: after visiting London, I don’t think neither Singapore nor Malaysia holds the bragging rights to call themselves multi-racial, Truly Asia, Uniquely whatever.
Spitalfields Traders Market is slightly edgier than Borough Market- the latter, in my opinion, has been marketed and packaged to look “rustic”, although I still love it!. At Spitalfields, we saw a health inspector checking the hygiene of the food stalls and somehow the threat of getting food poisoning allayed fears of visiting a tourist trap.
Food-wise, they do have fine food produce ala Borough Market (think cured hamds and olive oils) but you also get other ethnicities represented such as Japanese (cute dons), Thai and Indian, and grub from less hyped-up cultures such Ethiopian and Caribbean.
Apart from food, Spitalfields Market sell plenty of knickknacks like handmade accessories, vintage scarfves and outfits, random objects that serve no purpose other than dust-collecting.
I say: Spend your Saturdays at Borough Market and Sundays at Spitalfields Market.
Apparently, this is “what Covent Garden was like before it became a tourist trap”. If you feel the impulse to wave your light sticks and pull a rendition of Tina Turner’s "We Don't Need Another Covent Garden", err don’t! Visit the campaign website instead.
I had my “I died and gone to heaven” moment at Borough Market. One of the largest food markets in the world, it’s crowded but you can find an amazing variety of food and produce such as …
-Takes a deep cyber-breath-
Artisan cheeses, cured hams, beans and pulses, olive oils, green, black and stuffed olives, truffle oil, foie gras, organic fruit, vegetables and wild mushrooms, freshly pressed fruit juices, preserves, oysters , smoked fish, artisan bread, studded with sundried tomatoes and herbs,
chocolate truffles, balaclavas, pastries, cakes, desserts such as banoffee pie, lemon tart, carrot cake, apple strudel, chocolate and vanilla éclair, vanilla pie, chocolate brownies, flourless baked chocolate truffles, raspberry cake, tiramisu, freshly made pasta, raviolis, tortellini, sausages, kebabs, falafels, sweet and savory tarts, quiches etc etc.
I looked up the brownie pyramid and saw 2 significant crumbs at the top of the pyramid
“Are you going to sell that?” I asked.
The guy shook his head and gave me the brownie crumbs. Score!
The market also houses restaurants and food stalls. The first thing we shared was a box of fish and chips. It wasn’t the best fish & chips I’ve had as the chips were a little limp but we were starving. I also spied a salt beef sandwich stall but no one else seemed interested in sharing.
tart
Dad and I shared a spinach and blue cheese tart, which caused my mum and yang to shudder in horror. The tart crumbed easily and luckily the blue cheese wasn’t too strong- either that or my tastebuds has morbidly altered by the random food I’ve been snacking all day.
Then I finally saw something that made my gut grovel.
Grilled cheese sandwich.
In haste, I grabbed a queue ticket (yes, they are that popular and busy) and stood in front of the cheese-melting machine, utterly mesmerized by the bubbling surface.
“I’ll make a special one for you” the raclette guy told my sister and I. Aww, special treatment.
Too bad my life isn’t a fairy tale or made of milk and honey because my sister asked me, “you ordered that?” pointing to the potato-gherkin-cheese mess.
OH NO! I meant to get a grilled cheese sandwich, not that potato-gherkin-cheese mess. In sheer embarrassment, I took a new ticket and hobbled over to the other side where shelves-ful of grilled cheese sandwiches lay waiting to be pressed by the Panini grill. Oh, another queue! The agony of waiting and getting my grilled cheese sandwich after like, three people!?
When it was finally handed to me, I held in my hands like a newborn baby.
Just imagine melted Cheddar cheese, onions and leeks, nuzzled between buttered sourdoughs. It was greasy, messy and crazily delicious. Seriously if its deliciousness were measured in dollars, people would be fighting over to include this in their pre-nup. This was all 'you had me at hello,' 'you complete me' and all the cheesy movie love lines.
Jack, I’m flying.
CRASH.
No more grilled cheese sandwiches for you, woman.
Borough High Street Stoney Street and Winchester Walk London, SE1 1TL Opening hours Thursdays: 11am - 5pm Fridays: 12pm - 6pm Saturdays: 9am - 4pm
About an hour’s worth of shopping for ties, Aunt Jo and I were in need of some refreshments. We literally bumped into Sienna Café, a tiny café “nestled at the base of the escalators in the Central Atrium”. Ha, this is hilarious. The Selfridges website described the café as the place “to see and be seen”? Yeah sure if people can be bothered to crane their necks downwards while they ride the escalators.
We had a chocolate cake, well let’s just call it “Chocolate Fudge Cake” because looking at it, it could pass of as one. Haha and it also saves me the trouble of describing something forgettable. Hey it’s chocolate fudge cake i.e. if you have been reading food blogs long enough, you would know how one tastes even without actually eating one.
The Citrus Pound Cake was a buttery loaf, infused with a deep but pleasant scent of clementine.
By the way, if you think the table looks a little arty-farty, it’s because the café has been given the “surreal treatment, courtesy of culinary threesome extraordinaire Les Trois Garçons”, which “after reinvention by this highly creative team, Sienna Café will look, feel and taste different – selling Surrealism inspired cakes and nibbles.”
Well, there’s nothing surreal about Sienna’s scones. It was bang-on, almost teeth-cracking hard. I toasted the other one in the microwave the next day and it redeemed itself somewhat; but otherwise, I think this should probably be classified as a dangerous object because with a careful aim, you could hurt somebody.
There aren’t that many must-return eateries in London because you can get just about anything from the rest of the world. For instance, I didn’t even return Four Seasons for their roasted duck rice because I’m sure if I look hard enough I can find kickass roasted duck rice in Singapore- although I must say, I’m never “in the mood” for duck rice in Singapore. That being said, the salt beef sandwich at Selfridges has been post-it-ed, bookmarked as a “yes go” in my to-do list.
The place is a lot roomier than before and the sitting area is considerably more comfortable. Somehow back then when I had to balance my bag on my lap and my butt on the high stool, while making sure my shopping bags was still around, the kookily perilous experience had seemed more memorable.
Yet with more comfortable seats, there was less reason to rush through the meal. At The Brass Rail, they serve both regular salt beef and tongue. I exercised the ‘how often do you often tongue’ logic and settled for a regular tongue sandwich with rosemary bread, instead of the regular rye.
a half sandwich
The sandwich had an optional dash of mustard within, which I highly recommend because it takes the salt beef from ‘downright salty’ to ‘downright salty with a twang’… and we are all about multitude of flavors right?
When we sat down to eat, I realized everyone around me (including 6 feet tall men) had the half portions. Very embarrassing. Hey then again, I need a proper regular sandwich for the memories to last me months, if not years!
It was fantastic. Chewing through the heartachingly-soft tongue slabs, I could almost imagine myself bouncing on tongue mattresses in slow motion as Oompa-Loompas sang hymms around me. Don’t ask me why but salt beef tongue does to me what magic mushrooms does with most people.
