The intrepid adventures we have found ourselves on whilst tripping the light fantastic around this wonderful London town has been eye-opening. We are not nearly as rich, charming, cool, hip, shallow, deep, beautiful, intelligent, enthusiastic, shy and informed as we had previously thought. We are, frankly, pretty ordinary (don’t go getting any ideas though – we’d still place ourselves firmly above the category into which trainee solicitors fall). Anyway, with that in mind, please believe us when we tell you that our recent foray into the other-side of boredom surprised even us. Where we were once jaded and lethargic, we are re-energised and full of wonder. Perhaps there really are things we haven’t seen or done that are well worth a look?

This little journey of wonderment began at a petrol station off Kings Cross – indeed, The Filling Station at Kings Cross. We happened upon a place SO cool, not even the security guards skulking outside knew what it was – Shrimpy’s. For a place with a name so ordinary, it really was extraordinary. It’s like meeting someone amazingly cool, intelligent and attractive and their name is Susan or Martin or something. It was surprising. Actually, it was a little pretentious when the bloke welcoming guests (complete with his Vivienne Westwood jumper) got a bit snooty when we double-checked we had ventured into Shrimpy’s and not some swingers’ party.

‘Let me check’, he uttered casually, before grasping a nearby menu to look upon the name on the front. ‘Oh, yes, so it is,’ he chirped. Listen, pal, you’re the fucking gimp that sits people at tables. You can carry on all you like with your air of superiority in your designer jumpers and geek-chic glasses but at the end of the day you can be a replaced by a mildly informative sign stating ‘THIS WAY TO SEATS’ and an arrow pointing in the general direction of the tables.

At that point, the bile began to bubble up to our throats, but we chewed it back and shot Mr Westwood a friendly smile that betrayed the thoughts of making him swallow the turgid jumper in one go. We did so because the place looked brilliant – set in the refurbished petrol station (whose courtyard is protected from prying eyes with high walls), it was almost futuristic. Perhaps, when the oil runs dry and we’re either back to horses or in trash-powered cars, all the petrol stations will be replaced by things daubed largely in white on the outside and refurbished to a high degree on the inside.

The servers were a bit quirky weird – well ours was. She had a curious mash of cultural make up all on one face and a slightly awkward Emo Phillips (when he was young) look. That, however, didn’t detract from her excellent knowledge of the dishes and the wine. The food was basically ‘South American’ (at least it was to our sheltered tastes). We kicked off with a great Peruvian Ceviche and followed it up with their famous soft-shell crab burger. The ceviche was fresh and sharp – excellently prepared and a cacophony of flavours to ensure you’re clean and ready for the main event. The burger (well it’s a deep-fried soft-shell crab between two buns) was actually rather elegant with a great blend of sauce and salad to make sure you were eating something that was a joy. The desserts were, frankly, a bit of an afterthought by that time – we were like stuffed pigs after the crab. The bill was reassuringly priced – I suppose Mr Westwood has to fund his designer habit from somewhere – but for a 3 course meal including wine, we were happy to get away with about £65 a head. Not bad value and definitely worth a visit if you can stomach the pretentions of some.

Weird, possibly pretentious, but definitely knowledgeable about the menu

Infinitely less pretentious (and related to something we have spoken of many a time) is the Screen on the Green. Indeed, this one-screen gem is hardly news to anyone who likes to watch movies, but perhaps their latest series of Late Night screenings. There are some gems coming up (Speed, Shaun of the Dead, Top Gun, Fight Club and Cool Runnings – yes that one). We saw The Princess Bride there recently (aka the best film ever made) and it was utterly brilliant. The opportunity to see films on the big screen that maybe you discovered late, missed entirely or just wanted to re-experience again is too good to pass up. Not just that, but the screen is brilliant (have we mentioned that somewhere on here before?) plush seats, a phat bar with exotic (well unusual if not exotic) snacking items and drinks, and sofa-service. If that wasn’t enough, the people are brilliant. They all clearly enjoy their film and their work. We always find that slightly unnerving – having been a lawyer, people that enjoy their jobs are often met with a deep suspicion, but these people are friendly and a good laugh. Well worth paying them for the pleasure of a cinematic classic.

Is this a tour de force? We’re never sure when to use that phrase. We understand that it is meant to be a brilliant feat or effort, but seeing as we have read it with reference to the BBC football punditry, we suggest that the standard is pretty low. Even so, we would struggle to suggest that chipping about a few places in London for a fry-up, film and more food would count as a tour de force. It was a bit of an effort though – not least because we had a dodgy stomach.

It was with said dodgy stomach that we ventured into hitherto foreign territory off the Edgware Road and Patogh. For the equally uninitiated, Patogh is a Persian restaurant set on Crawford Place just off the ‘exotic’ Edgware Road. The restaurant itself is crammed-full of people which is always a good sign. It’s not a very large place but every corner is used to maximum effect. Despite this, there is normally a queue outside of hungry onlookers. Don’t let that put you off though – it’s a good sign. We are big fans of Persian (Iranian) cuisine particularly the kebabs and stews. Patogh does not disappoint with a healthy selection of starters (the hummous is a must) along with freshly cooked flat breads (we got ours with garlic) and juicy kebabs (we got a chicken and lamb mix that was utterly brilliant). In short, the food was worth queuing for. It was worth cramping yourself in like a contortionist. Best of all, it was worth far more than the pittance we were required to pay at the end of the meal. That was magnificent.

After a quick turnaround we were back out on the Edgware Road, belly stuffed with stewing meats. We tottered off into the summery dusk, pleased to have finished yet another tour de force.

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Often when we think Georgia (the country - not the state or a girl) we conjure up images of brutish, hirsute men (and sometimes women) hell bent on walking on us with their staunch frames and low-centre of gravity. Clearly, this is because we have only ever really thought of Georgia when we watch the rugby world cup. Come to think of it, many of our images of countries we know relatively little about is similar to Georgia and based on the same small demographic study. Thus, it was with some trepidation that we agreed to venture into the unknown depths of the east with their communist sympathies and poverty-stricken existence (we are, of course, talking about East London here, not the oil-rich Georgia) in order to try some of the best offerings of Little Georgia in Bethnal Green.

When we imagine the cuisine of Georgia we think of plenty of root vegetables moulded into some form of cake to be eaten with fried chicken and waffles (though we may have strayed into Georgia, USA here). In reality, the food at LG (a set menu no less) was a feast of incredibly tasty salads, stews, bean mixes, fish, meats and a selection of naan-like breads stuffed with meats, beans and other delights. In short, the food was fantastic (and plentiful). We cannot enthuse enough about the delight of flavours, textures imaginatively woven together into a tapas like existence designed to fatten up unsuspecting over-eaters. We were pretty close to booking a holiday to Tbilisi as a result - and we're definitely looking forward to trying some of the other former USSR's delights - Little Turkmenistan and Little Kyrgyzstan can't be far off from being introduced to some of the 'edgier' parts of East London.

http://www.littlegeorgia.co.uk/



It's no surprise the Georgia Rugby Team are stout if they eat like tapas kings every night.

If 'foreign muck' doesn't tickle your particular fancies this month, a good alternative worth searching out is the delightful Garden Gate in Hampstead which is unabashedly British - so much so that it is soon likely to colonise the Indian take away and a small unsuspecting island cafe down the road. The GG is the sort of pub that tourists imagine before coming to the United Republic of Britain - its wooden panelled walls, hanging baskets of flowers, extensive list of ales, board games, roaring fires, fairy light beer garden and a delightful kitchen churning out surprisingly good food. Well... it's not surprising to us but we're not tourists and everyone knows tourists are full of pre-conceived stereotypical prejudices unlike us - but that's because we speak English so we are clearly WAY better. It gets very busy in here (but isn't that how we quaint Brits roll?) especially on the weekends but that's a good sign - and backed up by the wonderful selection of roasts (we plumped for the 28 day-aged beef and were delighted). We're surprised there isn't a queue out the door for their Sunday roasts (but that may be because, in typical British fashion, the sun was quickly replaced with hail, lighting and thunder. The Garden Gate's the perfect place to spend the weekend drinking and eating to forget the week gone and the week to come.

http://www.thegardengatehampstead.co.uk/

Finally, after all that eating, we wanted to utter a quick word about a pretty little thing called the Tokyo Bike Company which, after two successful pop-up outings has gone and done the honourable thing by opening up a proper shop (in Shoreditch, natch). TBC is an independent bike company whose sole purpose is to create beautiful and colourful bikes for city users. It was created for the most city of cities - Tokyo (hence the name - the bikes were for use in Tokyo much like mountain bikes are for mountains - or really rocky pavements) and if their bikes succeed out there despite the constant trials of Godzilla vs Mothra etc, then it's likely to withstand the hail of April showers that we're currently experiencing (although admittedly you may not wish to cycle in such weather). The bikes are well built (Japanese engineering - positive stereotypes can be right) and minimalist in design - it's like riding on a slightly more colourful and cheerful Muji shop - and their work is guaranteed. More than that, they have their own workshop (complete with a comprehensive price list to avoid confusion) and participate in the cycle-to-work scheme. It makes sense to buy a TBC bike - even if you don't yet cycle (though I'm sure they'd give you some pointers).

http://tokyobike.co.uk/ .... read more >

We have been feeling rather whimsical recently – it’s possibly because the drudgery of snow and offensively-cold cold-snap was momentarily snapped this past weekend with relatively summery temperatures. We were possibly a couple of degrees away from breaking out the flip-flops and our shorts, but thankfully sanity set in and we retreated further into our orange jumpsuits (obligatory RoF uniform). Those glorious few moments were really glorious though. Regardless, no matter how brief the moment was, the mere hint of summer in the air (what with the distant sound of possible lawnmowers and that faint smell of sun in the air) was enough to send us into waves of whimsy giving us hitherto (well not since last spring at least) untapped vats of courage… so we went and got our hair cut short. This, you might think, was not terribly brave, but for us it was – we have about enough money to pay for our lunch of stale bread and gruel so this extravagance was certainly brave. We blame summer.

 

Well, not just summer. We also blame the Soccermen. What with all the current controversies (aren’t there always?) there’s a lot of blame being thrown at ‘soccer men’ but this is specifically with reference to two young chaps (Paul Hudson and Matt Conrad) who left England on a wonderful and whimsical adventure to Pohnpei. This isn’t a story of gap year backpackers in search of the meaning of life (or drugs and stories with which to woo women when they reach uni). Instead, this is the tale of their unlikely journey to a very micro Micronesian state in order to breathe life into their football. It is a story to warm the cockles in these footballing-cold-war times and to inspire others to greatness (or haircuts – whichever suits really) as the Soccermen work to put Pohnpei on the footballing map and, hopefully, lead them to their first ever victory. FIFA should be awarding these men a special award for probably doing more for football than any goal of the season has ever done… plus one of them looks like an out-of-shape Manu Petit so that’s always worth a look.

 

Thankfully, you won’t need to travel to Pohnpei to follow their exploits as they have, handily released a book which is touching, thrilling and entertaining. You should buy it now.

 

http://www.thesoccermen.com/home

 

Also, they’re hopefully putting together a film so if you’ve ever had a desire to do some good and get a producer credit too, check out their Kickstarter page – we have donated and so should you!

 

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/2028948731/the-soccermen

 

Ukulele required. T-shirt optional (that's how we rock)

As if a haircut and backing a duo of intrepid sporting pioneers and egalitarians wasn’t enough, we’ve also been searching out something different. We get that urge from time to time – actually, we get it every year just after the Christmas and birthday bonanza that is December and January when life returns to mundane dullness filled with mortgage payments, monotony and the slow death of hopes and dreams by the simple and maddening effluxion of time. It’s depressing but inevitable – but it does drive us to do random and brilliant things like learning the ukulele. That’s pretty random seeing as we have no rhythm, musical background or knowledge. Thankfully, we found some easy-going group lessons in Hampstead held at the Oak Studio – led by the brilliant Rachel who eased us through this ‘simple’ instrument. It was probably the most fun we’ve had in 2012 – not least because we pretended we were a giant holding a normal sized guitar. Hours of fun.

 

The classes are friendly, welcoming and great fun – we recommend them (and the uke) whole-heartedly.

 

http://youcanuke.co.uk/index.htm

Frankly, we expected him to have a massive package too. It's obviously been photoshopped to make us feel better

Finally, we recently had the pleasure of tasting some brilliant food from Jamie Oliver’s Fifteen – you may remember them from the series a few years ago following the initiative from Jamie Oliver (hasn’t he been knighted yet? He irritates many people but he’s a good bloke doing wonderful things) to help youngsters from underprivileged backgrounds make their way into the culinary industry. This is, we think, an excellent programme and, equally importantly, a brilliant restaurant. The food is (as you would expect) healthy but incredibly tasty – tasty like it’s unhealthy and yet it’s still healthy. He should be knighted for that alone – we bet he could make tofu taste like fried chicken or something. Anyway – the food, atmosphere, ethos and intentions here are all brilliant and well worthy of your time and money.

 

http://www.fifteen.net/

 

Not just that, but we also tasted some wonderful pastries from the talented Dean McClumpha (head pastry chef at Fifteen) and found out he likes to make cakes for special occasions on the side (he does it for fun and so the value is brilliant) – make sure you tweet him and get yourself something special for your next birthday… sadly we have to wait until January.

 

https://twitter.com/#!/DeanosCakery

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Roffing about town has been much harder of late – mainly because we’re in the midst of a dietary revolution involving 5-a-day, reduced fat and increased roughage. Why should that make things harder? Well, we’re losing weight making it even colder (relatively speaking) outside without our healthy whale blubber to insulate our limp organs. Not just that, but the extra roughage has made it nigh on impossible to venture more than 15 minutes away from a toilet we trust… yeah that’s right – we have toilets that we trust. We want to avoid the 2004 situation where, whilst a trainee, RofAboutTown was happily sat enjoying laying cable when we received a double tap on our shoe from the cubicle next to us. The next few minutes are a blur, but it involved unexpected (and unwelcome) protrusions from the dividing wall between bogs. We wouldn’t think about it at all, but it was, conveniently, how we met Piers n’ Maffew. JUST KIDDING – it wasn’t a toilet.

 

Sorry, all this blue chat is because we were hijacked the other night in Angel. It was a totally pleasant evening out with a friend when he suggested a jaunty trip to the Screen on the Green – a regular hotbed of cool cinematic sophistication. If you haven’t been before, it’s one of those uber-cool places where all the blokes seem to be wearing black jeans and black t-shirts regardless of the time of day or weather. The ladies invariably wear horn-rimmed spectacles and vintage clothing of some era that passed us by. It is, in short, bloody cool. The screen is high definition of some sort, the chairs (and sofas) are so comfy you’re liable to fall asleep and miss the film. At the back, a beacon of light in the dark recesses (the surprisingly large recesses) sits a bar churning out genuinely good food and drink for quiet consumption during the film. We say film, but we probably mean Cinematic Masterpiece that the lads in black t-shirts and black skinny jeans chatter about in the paradoxically hushed yet piercingly loud voices intended to advertise their intelligence, imagination and general understanding of the meaning of every second of what you just saw.

 

What we did actually see there was the latest offering from Steve (Rodney) McQueen – Shame. It’s highly acclaimed in many intellectual circles (circles that were formed, no doubt, following his equally highly acclaimed Hunger). It was actually a very special screening – the black t-shirts had turned into white shirts with thin black ties and a practically see-through black jumper that probably does nothing in the current weather. Frankly, that put us off – as well as seeing Michael Fassbender’s young private parts flapping about on large screen. It was intimidating (but tastefully done). It’s definitely beautifully shot and there are possibly some deep and meaningful themes that passed us by (maybe we were distracted by the weird and wonderful exploits of Mini-Fassbender) but we didn’t love it. That said, people that act far smarter than us have suggested it is insightful and moving. We’d suggest seeing it at Screen on the Green given its dark and cool recesses to hide any blushes.

 

http://www.everymancinema.com/cinemas/screen-on-the-green/fri-20-01-12/whats-on

 

After an evening watching Fassbender flop his kimchi about, we were yearning for some Korean

After all that smut we figured a healthy dose of (possibly) unhealthy Korean – it cleanses the soul by replacing it with a spicy substance that burns initially, but the memories of which bring you back to where you encountered it previously. We’re not sure why we do it to ourselves – perhaps it’s like that strange thing about childbirth where mothers ‘forget’ the pain and suffering encountered during labour. Apparently it encourages them to have more children (or at least it doesn’t discourage them). We’re not quite sure what gene or enzyme works its magic to ensure parents forget about the chronic lack of sleep, frustrated crying and nappies though. Maybe that’s just the gin and teetering mental stability. Anyway… the point is we forget how spicy effects us on the day of ingestion. We have sensitive tummies.

 

Thus, armed with gum and mild antacids, we ventured into the ‘Seoul-arium’ near Centre Point. It’s almost certainly not referred to as Little Korea but seeing as this tiny strip of about half a dozen shops contains 3-4 Korean cafes/restaurants, we’d like to think that some wag somewhere has christened it as such. Maybe that’s just us.

 

Upon rocking up to St Giles High Street in the shadow of Richard Seifert’s errr… most famous but possibly least popular creation, we see the huddle of Korean eateries – each with confusing ‘foreign’ on the outside. We could barely remember where we ate last time, until the familiar door of ‘Po Chung Ma Cha’ or ‘Po Cha’ for short. We say the door is familiar mainly because it’s an ordinary house door that looks most unwelcoming – exactly the sort of thing we like to see in the doorway of places we want to visit (we refer you to the urges of black t-shirt people above). It’s not, frankly, the most illustrious of restaurants with cool gleaming widescreen tv’s or that new-vintage look that seems to be popular, but we don’t care about that – we care that the food (the spicy pork with rice) is tasty and reasonably priced. Both of these things are ticked and, judging from the way it is always overflowing with customers, we’re not the only ones that enjoy a bit of lunchtime Korean spice. The Korean bbq items also look attractive, though we haven’t yet gathered up the courage to try it. For us, the spicy pork contains the right addictive items to keep us happily entertained and coming back for more. We hear the soondubu jjigae is worth a look here too… though we’re too intimidated by the spelling to order it.

 

Po Cha

 

56 St Giles High Street
LondonWC2H 8LH

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What with the recent official end of British Summer Time for 2011, we have obviously turned ourselves to more hearty pursuits as the dark nights draw in, the temperature drops and X-Factor begins to heat up (before fighting off some ethical rival for Christmas No. 1). This is all good news as our familiar hefty frame is suddenly indistinguishable from the other hibernating anorexics clothed in their seven layers of merino. Winter suits our big bones and layers of bacon fat.

Winter is also great because it gives us the excuse to eat hearty, warming meals such as those served up at Mushu near Warren Street. This Chinese diner-restaurant arguably serves up the best dumplings and lions-head meatballs available in town - flavoursome goodness drenched in hearty broth. We're big fans of the food here - the people are lovely and the service is quick (surely the best combination for any eaterie?).  

We had ourselves the pork and beef potstickers (gyozas) followed by the lions-head meatballs (Mondays are meatball special days - discounted meatballs!). We have no idea why they're called lions-head meatballs but we enjoyed it like we were eating Simba's face itself. It was incredibly tasty and succulent. The potstickers were a revelation too - especially with their Spicy Szechuan Sauce (it wasn't hot spicy but full of spices).

Our fellow hibernators devoured their spicy chicken karaage (yeah we know it's Japanese) and their bento boxes. None of us were disappointed by the perfectly cooked food and wholesome flavours.

http://www.mushu.co.uk/index.htm



Nothing to say about this one really.

After the phat (yeah we used a 'ph') lunch we retired to the dark heart of Borough Market for some delights at Brew Wharf. It's a Vinopolis - not quite the independent dive we were seeking, but this was just too good not to mention. We have had so much fun here - the seemingly endless and quirky list of beers from around the world kept us mightily occupied. And then sent us cross eyed - from the Moosehead (Canada) to the Chilli Beer (Mexico) via some stuff churned out by Trappist monks (Belgium), we did more travelling in one night than we've done in the last five (5) years.

Aside from the beers, the place is normally packed out with happy revellers - we were there to watch the rugby world cup recently and it was a wonderful environment to enjoy the games. We were showered (happily) with beer and given fantastic bar snacks (satays, sausages and hummous - as eclectic as the beer list). For those slightly hungrier, you should check out the sit-down area - though we were far too drunk for that.

http://www.brewwharf.com/ .... read more >