Tag Archives: London

They’re not lying

31 Oct

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I get it. I get the hype. After months of reading and hearing others rave about Honest Burgers, I finally experienced it for myself this weekend, while in London to see both friends and some wonderful noise in the form of Japandroids. (As ever, I suppose, this delay is what I get for not living in the capital.)

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Caerphilly rarebit is a beautiful thing in itself. Sitting atop of a juicy, medium-grilled burger, it’s practically obscene. With braised leeks, smoked bacon and pea shoots, as well? Cor. And let’s just say that I want to make some very grovelling amends for the 24 years of my life spent unaware of the existence of crispy leeks.

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Unless you want to be here all day, it’s best not to get me started on the rosemary-salted chips or the home-made lemonade, served in jam jars with twee straws.

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Oh, and the fact that we had an hour-and-a-quarter wait after putting our name down for a table, meant that we were veritably compelled to tide ourselves over with these snack-sized tacos with beef and pretty much everything else from the incredibly cheerful man running the stand outside El Panzon.

Double win.

Brixton Village: hangovers and crêpes

22 Jul

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For a girl who resides precisely nowhere within the embrace of the M25, I have a disproportionate number of hangovers in Brixton. (See also: Kentish Town, but that’s a whole other blog post in itself.) It’s where some of my worst-influence friends live, and visits to stay with them usually culminate in a less-than-pleasant morning after. Still, there’s always Brixton Village.

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I’d love to pretend that I’m au fait with every nook and cranny of this lovely little warren of cafes, restaurants and shops. But that would be a lie; despite my best intentions, I’ve still yet to even make it to Honest Burgers. It’s always Senzala and its amazing crêpes for my friends and I. It’s pretty much our Bar Italia.

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Most of the menu looks incredible, but my favourite is the Picante: spicy minced beef, red onion, peppers and a generous blaze of jalapeños. It’s got enough zing to cut through even the most horrendous of hangovers. Teamed with a glass of refreshingly minty homemade lemonade? I’m almost a functioning human being again.

Eating The Apple Cart

8 Jun

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Last Sunday I went to The Apple Cart, in London’s Victoria Park. I have eaten plenty of bland, overpriced dreck at festivals (not all festivals – Glastonbury is of course another good example of a well-catered event) in my time. Still, given that the sophomore year of this boutique one-dayer boasted the Venn Street Market food area, I was hoping this wouldn’t be the case. And while the weather unfortunately dashed my expectations, what was on offer to eat thankfully did not.

We started out the day with some Apple Cart ale. Pre-midday drinking in a rainy field on a Sunday? Frankly, I can think of few more British ways to kick off a Jubilee weekend. Also, when a festival’s got its own ale, it’s rude not to…

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Lunch decisions were agonising, but eventually I went for an Agentine chorizo roll from Borough Market‘s Porteña’s stall.

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The chorizo itself was rich and spicy, the bun soft and the chimichurri sauce a pleasant undercurrent of umami to tie the whole thing together. It is one of the most unashamedly decadent things I have eaten in a long time, and days later I’m still trying to work out how often I could get away with attempting to recreate it at home

For dinner I’d been hoping to grab some pulled pork from the Bodean’s van – something I was genuinely excited about, seeing as there are only so many chances a non-London-dwelling girl gets to try such things. Alas, they were sold out. Still, the next best thing was a hog roast from a sadly nameless stall.

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The photo does not do the size of this beast justice. I could – stop sniggering – barely get my mouth around it. There were distinct notes of fennel, rosemary and garlic, and suffice to say my Bodean’s-less sulk did not last long.

Other things I could happily have feasted upon? Arancini, topped mac ‘n’ cheese, lamb flatbreads, 35-day aged steak burgers… Other things we did opt for? Crispy, comforting churros dusted with cinnamon sugar and served with hot chocolate, although the latter could have done with more of a kick of cocoa or chilli.

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Most impressive of all? All of this racked up to easily less than £20. I have paid the better part of a fiver for lank chips or a grey burger in the past at festivals. I’d love to see this approach to food permeate festivals as a whole. I wish I could say I was holding out more hope…