Most of this blog is all about the good stuff in London. But today has been what Anne of Green Gables* would have called a Jonah day** - ie rubbish, frankly - and not at all helped by the fact that my meetings schedule meant I was in need of my caffeine hits at moments when I found myself first, next to Pimlico Village, and second, next to Cafe Amore.
These cafes are hardly new to me. One I lived by for 3 years, another I worked by for 3 years, and I spent most of that time in utter wonderment at how they could be so bad, to the point of getting the giggles about it one time (the only other alternative was crying...). And herein lies the problem. I am so snotty about Starbucks coffee as an evil corporation - let's face it, it's not so hard when the coffee is so weak - and whinge about how Nero's quality has gone down so much since they expanded so fast - but man those independents need to learn about coffee and service first...
Meanwhile I will continue to dream about my own ideal version of a coffeeshop as I'd run it, which I confess has pretty much already been done by some wonderful person in the hip part of Stockholm. String rocks, as do most of the people who hang out in it (see picture) - as the review says, 'String offers you everything from pies to furniture to cup cakes'. What they don't say is that they serve ace coffee, brilliant DIY museli, and are rammed full morning to night with aspiring poets, film-makers and other such beautiful people... come on London, catch up, catch up...
* oh my god there's a fanclub. see you in three weeks.
** oh my god somone's put the whole set of books on the internet.
OK so my Spanish leaves something to be desired but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy tapas every once in a while. I wound up in Cigala last night, having briefly considered Barrafina, which I really want to try but as S and I agreed, perhaps not at 9pm on a Saturday night when apparently the whole of London was out (if the amount of booked-upness is anything to go by). Perhaps everyone is tiring of the whole January detox tedium.
I really like Cigala, esp their squid in mojo sauce (yes, really), and esp after having such a brilliant evening there. We ended up in the downstairs bar, empty but for us and a miserable couple who were taking their bitterness out on the lovely waiter. As we'd just seen No Country for Old Men - N was right about it being a film of pure genius - we found ourselves imagining ducking bullets and oxygen cylinders behind the various red pillars as we sipped our mighty fine sherry.
London tapas can be pretty dodgy and I confess I haven't ventured that far into the posh tapas territory of places like Fino and The Providores and Tapa Room. However I am much more familiar with the local Vox mish-mash of Spanish and Portuguese places where the tables are formica, the beer costs a pound a bottle, and the football's never off (the pic here of Little Portugal aka South Lambeth Road was taken on the day of the world cup final). I love a few of those places depsite the fact I've had a few really unpleasant meals to sort the wheat from the chaff....
Rebato's is probably my favourite, with its faded red velvet banquettes, and a fancy back room full of ferns and mirrors. I wish I'd known D and A when they had their 'we're not married' reception there - must have been a brilliant night. Estrela is perfect for coffee and people-watching. Madeira cafe, now that it's opened up its restaurant, is great fun and has a good line in blue lighting, which shouldn't work but somehow it does. Others that come highly recommended by people who know more than me are A Toca, not so far from the gym; and O Cantinho - on the Stockwell Road but don't hold that against it.
I remember going to this building when it was a big, hot goth's dream. How different it is now... there's the Whole Foods supermarket with canteen (well, next door anyway) and this roof garden which sounds genuinely excellent - and it's a huge 1.5 acres big... Friday and Saturday nights involve Tudor barbeques (??) and a club.
As I was writing about the Lyric, I kept on thinking of other things that are good about Hammersmith. So before I write the whole place off, other things I like about the place:
Riverside Studios. Great double bills on sundays. nice bar overlooking the river, that is much less crowded than some of the manky, chip-stinking, toff-stuffed pubs further down. I've always wanted to live near somewhere like this - art, film, music, good coffee - mmm yes please
The walk from Hammersmith Bridge (which actually I really like too, nice and green) down towards Barnes. Pretty pretty.
The Polish Cultural Centre. Great food, a lot of vodka and tends to stay open pretty late. bring it on.
The vintage fashion fairs put on at the bunker-like town hall every now and then. I fantasise about being one of those people who know what to buy at these things; sadly, I just tend to wander around paralysed by the fear of wanting everything and knowing nothing.
So - more reasons to hang out in Hammersmith than Bromley then. Hardly a ringing endorsement but not bad, given I'm generally a bit allergic to west London...
God, I don't think there's been more than 48 hours in the last three weeks where I haven't at some point found myself on the South Bank. What a great place. I love the fact that you don't need to buy anything to enjoy the space. I love the open-ness of the RFH. I love the glass and stone of it all. I love the water installations. You get the picture: I'm quite a fan. Anyway I was there again today and had 15 minutes to kill as I awaited a first date (not the best start to a beautiful relationship) and found yet more cool stuff. If only I could marry the South Bank and be done with these silly boys.
Take for example Late Lounge at the Terrace Cafe of the National Theatre, 10pm-1am on Fridays and Saturdays during summer - the unique 'Bring and Share' DIY disco. Or St Etienne's Turntable Cafe nights held monthly(ish). Or Benugo at the BFI. Super super, the lot of them.
This is what every local park should be like. Everytime I walk through it I am struck by how well cared for it is, and what a lot is going on there, despite being on the small side. Above and beyond the standard park-like things, it has a model village (yes! really it does!), a lavender field and a rose garden. Dead cool.
The park's one of several good reminders that Vauxhall is about so much more than a one way system. Others include the gorgeous and romantic community gardens behind hippie Bonnington Square, where I've loved and lost; the city farm squeezed into a tiny space between sprawling estates; and the Spring Gardens Community Centre, which has the most fantastic organic vegetarian cafe but only between 8 and 2 on weekdays. So unknown that I can't even find a link to it on the internet. Come Sunday night it plays host to some *very* raucous parties... what is it about sunday nights in vauxhall? they are apparently the new saturday in this funny little pocket of town.
Everyone's raving about this new bakery which can be found at no 14 Golden Square. Loads of good Scandy stuff and strong coffee. www.nordicbakery.com open till 8pm during the week, and 7pm on Saturday.
Most of this blog is all about the good stuff in London. But today has been what Anne of Green Gables* would have called a Jonah day** - ie rubbish, frankly - and not at all helped by the fact that my meetings schedule meant I was in need of my caffeine hits at moments when I found myself first, next to Pimlico Village, and second, next to Cafe Amore.
