My 10 favourite London afternoon teas - 2017 edition

Someone, somewhere in the universe has designated this week national afternoon tea week (only the best week ever to reminisce about afternoons of luxury and who needs more excuse to book a few more?)

It has almost become a blogger cliche, inviting the girls to a few hours of decorous luxury, but one that I rather adore. As I'm getting on in years (feel free to feel sorry for me...) I've swiftly come to the conclusion that I'd rather don a pretty dress to spend a little more on sandwiches and scones, than prop up a pub bar and feel very sorry for myself the next day.

Marco Pierre White Steakhouse Review - London Steakhouse Co

We should all dine out on Monday evenings more often. Instead of falling fretfully asleep on a Sunday night, we should take the first night after the weekend of freedom by the horns and ride the gourmet train into the sunset. Make sure there is something delicious in the diary to get you through that set of Monday blues. Something simple, something steak-y even.

 Disclaimer: We were invited guests of the Marco Pierre White Steakhouse - London Steakhouse Co but all of my very, very many thoughts and memory musings are only ever my own...

I've always quite firmly believed in the ethos of regular luxury moments - occasionally taking a less bombastic approach to simply enjoying yourself more often - and a good steak dinner on a Monday is one of those life luxuries.

Iris and June, weekend brunch in Victoria

Years ago when I worked in the area, Victoria always seemed like a little bit of a gastronomic no-man's land. Sandwiched between the tolling bells of Westminster scuttling with politicians (though I do kinda love the Blue Boar and have spent far too much time drinking champagne, breakfasting and afternoon tea-ing in the Conrad St James) and Belgravia bustling with the yummy mummy's, thankfully there are more up and coming restaurants beginning to showcase their chef's credentials.

Over the years we have discovered a few of the [bloggers favourite klaxon] 'hidden gems' in the area that aren't necessarily fine dining (though we've found a few of them too). The cake menu hidden beneath Westminster Abbey, the cockney cobbles of Strutton Green, the rumored Royal favorite Thai restaurant (ok, ok, I began the rumour), the uber-touristy Albert pub where British Army retiree's sit hoping to warm their bones with a free pint and the cabbie's favourite greasy spoon The Regency Cafe.

Hunter 486, The Arch Hotel Restaurant Review

Some friends are for clubbing with in Soho on a Friday night. Some friends are for sipping champagne with in rooftop bars. Some friends are for sunny brunching whilst working though distinctly expat problems. And some friends are for chatting over dinner about esoteric literature in beautiful suburbs of London. (This feels like it might just turn into a Rolling Stones song.)

I've long been an advocate for making time to spend with the people who put a smile on your face. London can be a rather difficult beast to arrange such rendezvous(es?) unless you get a date in the diary 6 weeks in advance, or send out a bat signal the day before.

Disclaimer: We were invited guests to try the Best of British menu at Hunter 486 of but all of my very, very many thoughts are only ever my own... 

My dinner at Hunter 486 with the lovely Mina, overlord of Kings Road Rocks was just such an occasion. Realising I hadn't seen her in an age, I just needed a couple of hours nattering with her. It was one of those lightbulb moments and cancelling my dinner date with Mr Kiwi, within an hour or so we had thrown off the shackles of married life and arranged a girlie evening the next day.

A 2 Michelin star lunch at Belmond Le Manoir aux Quat'Saisons

Last year we went to the Shangri-La restaurant and hotel in the Shard for an amazing 3 course lunch, and because I'm a bad blogger I simply enjoyed the meal. Phone away, camera encased and social media turned off. It was all due to an Australian friend of mine who I found stood quietly (very unsually for him) at the window, overlooking the London skyline and his quietly insightful "well, it's a moment to cherish as I may never find myself here again. I'm off again travelling, and who knows where it could take me." (If you want to revel in another Shard fail though, try this Shard-centric post from 2013...)

Funnily enough a year later - almost to the day - we both found ourselves soaking in the sunshine between rain showers and learning how to play croquet on the perfectly manicured lawns of Raymond Blanc's 2 Michelin starred Belmond Le Manoir aux Quat'Saisons.

Life has a funny way of taking us down paths we don't quite expect, sometimes quite literally.

Brunch at the Sky Garden (Darwin Brasserie)

Living somewhere for a long time can lull you in a false sense of ‘oh, I’ll do it some other time’. When I began blogging, it was in an effort to pull us out of the work > TV > sleep / repeat cycle we had slumped into. For example we watched in long-term slowmotion snaps as 20 Fenchurch Street, known better as the Walkie Talkie building, was pulled up from the ground.

From pre-construction opposition of ‘yet another’ strangely shaped skyscraper to the media frenzy as the building’s signature curve of glass melted a section of car by concentrating the sunshine, we watched and made promises to ourselves (read: me nagging) that we’d visit the Sky Garden to check out the views of London “soon”.

Roka Aldwych, Bottomless Brunch Review

A while ago something in my head prompted me to share 9 of the ways that London has been made better for me, and one of them I didn't mention (well, I sorta did) was being adopted by hordes of London bloggers. For some bizarre reason I have been allowed to invite my way into a few informal tribes of genuinely friendly, brazenly brunching, sushi addicted, bubbly loving blog addicts. There's the loose ring of London Kiwi blog mafia, the massive expat massive and the association of travel addicts (anonymous) that brighten up London life immeasurably, not to mention the individual characters who don’t tie themselves down with memberships.

I don’t know if it’s the effect of such a big city full of a plethora of cultures and nationalities, the enormity of the population size or just the social makeup of the citizens, but for the most part the London foodie/travel blogging scene is a rather friendly collection of individuals. Since I began my corner of t’internet I’ve been to Northern Africa, nipped across The Channel to Paris for lunch, sipped cocktails by the pool in America, tiki toured around Bath and slept like a princess in Gloucestershire, not to mentioned brunching with all with me #internetfriends who have become IRL friends. They are good peoples, everyone of them.

^ If dishes had an instagram/blog per piece value, I'm pretty sure this would win hands down!^ 

This particular brunch began quite innocently. It started as a touch of chatter, but before we knew it the excitement of a TimeOut offer appearing brunch at Roka Aldwych with bottomless bubbles had us all a-Twitter (literally). I invited myself along (it's the sad eyes that gets them every time), we sussed out a good date thanks some email lasso-ing and in no time at all we were gathered in the Aldwych branch of Roka.

A luxurious sunrise brunch at Duck and Waffle - best way to start Monday

I finally did it. Hauled myself out of bed before sunrise and breakfasted amongst the amazing views of Duck and Waffle. Not only did I get myself out of bed, but managed to tempt Mr Kiwi along with me (though for some reason he thought we were going to a pub for a pre-work brunch? It goes to show how crazy he is, because he did it anyway) up 40 floors for brunch among the clouds.

Recently (after much reminder temptation from the likes of Angloyankophile and JessOnThames, and knowing that sunrises are getting earlier and earlier) we booked an intimate table for two as a Monday morning pre-work treat, to start the week off in a slightly more fun way than our usual porridge al-desko. Over the weekend prior, having watched the weather predictions with horror at Storm Irene threatening to drop a weather system on all the commuting Londoners the very morning we were meant to be enjoying the sunrise, we breathed a sigh of relief when we emerged from Liverpool Street Station to a windy, but fairly clear sky. That was a long, pre-caffeine sentence, my apologies.

Goodbye 2015, Hello 2016

2015 has been incredible and sad. 3 trips to the other side of the world, more hugs than I can count, dinner table laughter, a burgeoning coffee addiction, ticking off a new continent, many adventures in the UK and overseas to countries I will never be able to spell, a few heartbreaking incidents, discovering new nooks and generally trying to live life to the full.

And, as you read this, New Zealand has counted down & embraced the new year of 2016. We'll have watched the sun set on an incredible 2015 and we'll be (probably, ok maybe) watching the sunrise over the horizon of 2016.

Traditionally each year I like to finish with a little roundup of the year that was. I think we'll play with the top 15 this time (I did the top 14 last year, 13 in 2013, and 12 in 2012... see where I'm going with this?)

Fera, Claridges and a wedding anniversary celebration

Psychologists call it the seven year itch - the point in marriage when you've been together for (unsurprisingly) seven years and everything is meant to go downhill. Somehow we've made it to this awkwardly named milestone - how we've managed to rub along for so long with all the indignities a blog/expat/cat-hosting husband has to endure I don't know, but luckily he puts up with me.

And that's inspite of the rugby supporting, eye-rolling, distracted evenings, lack of domestic ability, teasing, occasional calling his homeland rubbish (but only on really bad commuting days - the rest of the year I adore it I swear), getting dragged around the globe, so called "terrible taste in music" and a complete lack of tea making skill.

The boy is a keeper.

Friday figments and photos: Time

“Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.”
― Marthe Troly-Curtin

 

 “Books have a unique way of stopping time in a particular moment and saying: Let’s not forget this.”
― Dave Eggers

Bourne and Hollingsworth brunch with a hashtag of bloggers

Sometimes a chat gets a little out of hand over Twitter, and you find yourself organising a brunch date with a bevy of beautiful blogging lovelies early(ish) on a Saturday morning. We left our duvets, other halves, pets and alarms snoozing at home whilst we (Angie, Rebecca, Shikha, Jaime and Sam) migrated from all over London to gather over coffee cups and eggs.

 

10 things I have to do in Autumn

Autumn - Fall, Oсень, Herbst, Automne or Jesień - is unconditionally my favourite season of the year. Rust-hued leaves twirling to the ground, blue skies with a crisp feel to the air and the best excuse to lay a crackling fire. Spring is a welcome relief to winter, but festooned with allergy causing pollen; summer is normally disappointing or hot and smelly, and winter is icy. Nah. Autumn all the way.

 

Being a list junkie, there are a few things I have to tick off each time autumn rolls around.

1. Wander through a park and stampede through a pile of autumnal leaves. (Instagram proof is optional, though entirely irresistable)

Wine + Chocolate + Hugs = #NationalChocolateWeek

We need to spend more time with our loved ones. At times I'm certainly guilty of this particular sin by omission, often getting too caught in the cyber world to often spend proper time with those closest to me. Ahem. I've also been a long time proponent of small gestures that have a ripple act, believing in quality over quantity. A smile, a selfless good deed for a stranger, a phone call, a bunch of flowers just to say I luff ya or sending over a 'hey, how are you' Twitter DM out of the blue. You know, the stuff that makes the world go around.

Well, very much in this spirit I've discovered a new spin on a vice to share with someone I/you/we love. Wine & chocolate matching - the best excuse for an off-the-cuff catch up. Waitrose contacted me to get involved with their National Chocolate Week campaign - how do you say no to an email like that!? - sending me a delicious bottle or two of wine and a few packages of chocolates so, I turned it into an excuse to spend some quality time with a few of my loved ones for no reason other than because we can.

Disclaimer: We received ingredients for participating, but no positive reviews were requested in exchange. My (many) opinions are only ever my own.

In fact, I enjoyed it so much, it turned it into 3 evenings where I turned up on doorsteps with loaded with wine, chocolate and hugs. (For the record they all knew I was coming and willingly told me where they lived, I'm not a creeper, just FYI.) Best round of blog research I've ever done.

The gate restaurant review - vegetarian cuisine in London

One of the things I love the most about being invited as a blogger to try restaurants is the ability to push our tastebuds a little outside of their usual comfort zone. Normally of an evening out we might go for a tried and tested bet, safe in the knowledge that we'll get good, if not super exciting meals - and sometimes that is perfect. But sometimes you want to try a meal that is a little different, a little off the beaten path.

Take the gate restaurants for instance. Running for more than 25 years, the brainchild of Adrian and Michael Danie, they serve vegetarian cuisine with a Indo-Iraqi Jewish bent modulated by French and Italian influences. Yep.

 Disclaimer: We were invited guests of The Gate, but my (very many) opinions are only ever my own, and I would never recommend anywhere that I wouldn't happily revisit - in this case, it's somewhere my carnivorous husband really loved and would go back!

Their focus is complementing fresh, delicious ingredients with a gourmet flare, and my focus of the evening was how my other half would cope, deprived of his favorite protein hit. We pootled along to their Hammersmith branch after work one evening, a carefully hidden away building behind the infamous Hammersmith Apollo Theatre. Entrance is through a humble communal courtyard, leading to a airy loft and enormous smiles of the welcoming restaurant staff.

A surprise September trip to Broadstairs seaside..

A couple of Saturdays ago I found myself at a loss. I was home doing boring things chores whilst the September sun was gloriously full. We had no real plans, a proper cozy weekend in, watching Downton Abbey, baking and lounging around in our PJs. Half an hour later, Mr Kiwi was in a car on his way up North to Great Grimsby with his brother for a family birthday (I opted to not go because I didn't want to spread my plague symptoms any further around) and the weather forecast said clear, blue sunshine on Sunday.

I was at a crossroads. Continue in the same vein of Saturday, or run away. So run away it was. With some frenetic Googling of 'best beaches near London' (don't laugh they are real), a few stressed messages to said husband to ensure I wasn't planning on going to a seaside gangland and a train ticket later I was outta there. Well, after a good night's sleep any way.

I hopped out of bed, grabbed my beach skirt with glee (in late September no less!), packed my book and vaulted out of the house. It takes 1hr 20 to train from St Pancras Station to Broadstairs (or Margate) so I sat back, relaxed and made sure I had a coffee in hand. Before long, the chalky cliffs of the Dover coast came into view, and then the sea started to sparkle through my window.

Friday figments and photos: One where it all gets a little tasty

So, I've been a pretty bad blogger again, neglecting this the only running series on my little corner of the interwebs, but I'm ok with that. Sometimes you just have to sit back, relax and enjoy life (I especially enjoyed Angloyankophile's post on this as part of the travel linkup this month. Word.)

We overstretch ourselves to a point where it becomes ludicrous, sharing our lives in a perfectly lit manner (hello instagram), tell the world our funniest thoughts (hello Twitter) and hope that we remembered to take a portrait photos (hello Pinterest).



But I still adore it. Every bit of it. #Bloglife4eva

Pachamama, Peruvian brunch in Marylebone

Previous research at the University of California in 2003 found that women speak an average of 20,000 words daily compared to only 7,000 words for men. This means that on average, women talk nearly three times as much as men. In fact when I was googling the above query (cause research is important kids) I used the search terms "How many words do men say compared to the amount of words women say" (a bloke would probably search "average words men and women" or perhaps just sigh knowingly). 

For the most part lads in England socialise in the pub over a couple of warm frosty pints, debating the merits of their favourite Football teams, the price of beer and a side of friendly banter (ribbing, p*sstaking, derision - whatever you fancy calling it). I often wondered if they use it as an allegory, but after years of operating the beer handles, I can definitely confirm it isn't. It is just pure escapism from the dreary day to day.

Charing Cross Station + Audrey Hepburn + Afternoon Tea

Did you know that Charing Cross is used to define the centre of London? All those signs that travellers encounter around the world that say "xxx miles to London" point to this station (and more accurately an equestrian statue of Charles I). By that logic, Charing Cross should be infamous, but it seems to be forgotten in the company of Paddington (Bear) Station, King Cross (Platform 9 & 3/4s) Station and Waterloo (hello Abba, you have much to answer for).

Over the years that we've passed by and through Charing Cross as we potter around the English countryside, I've often wondered about the building that sits atop the transport heart of London (see what I did there?) Luckily, a couple of weekends ago, the Amba team at Charing Cross hotel invited a few of us blogging reprobates in for an afternoon of sipping champagne and local culture.

Beany Green, Liverpool Street Brunch review

Sometimes all you want to do is spend a morning in the sunshine with a friend. Living in London definitely has downsides, and one of them is most definitely trying to get a girly date in the diary with less than a month's notice. Sometimes, though sometimes you get a hankering for a gossip, the stars align in an incredible way and after an afternoon of messaging, a golden date appears in the diary for a good old catch up.

We then played the inevitable 'what's central to both of us, and where do we fancy' game (bonus points for each additional player you involve) which was surreptitiously solved by the crew at Beany Green inviting us for a sampling of their bottomless brunch in the Broadgate Circus branch. (Try saying that 10 times in a row).

Spoiler, it was amazing and features a Banana Bread tower, read on.

Disclaimer: We were invited guests of Beany Green, but my (very many) opinions are only ever my own, and I would never recommend anywhere that I wouldn't happily revisit - in fact I've also frequented their other London branches several times on my own dime.

Tucked unassumingly in a selection of eateries an entire 50 seconds walk from Liverpool Street Station - yes, I timed it - Beany Green is another of those secret discoveries that I never want to share with anyone else (it happened to my Shepherds Bush favourite, and now they have queues out the door sigh). But if I must, this Melbourne-style cafe hidden in a modern edifice is a rather lovely combination of convenient tube line convergence, smiley staff, quirky decor and locality to the creative blogging hipsters of Shoreditch.