It has been the festive season in London. A few birthday celebrations and weekends out with best friends visiting London have warranted some serious indulgent days of buttery couscous, sweet prossecco, stinging cocktails, boutique interiors and clementine cake in glasshouses.
Petersham Nursery Café
In Richmond, South London, there is a plant nursery where the smell of leaves and mud reminds London urbanites, who normally move about north of its existence, that life is simply better with a whole lot of green. I was taken here as a surprise by a friend the week before my birthday and I was giddy with happiness the entire time. The nursery sells plants, flowers, seeds and all the things one needs to start a garden. We spent a good hour walking amongst the beautiful living things. After a good wander we found the hidden room where the café serves soups, stews, cakes, coffee and tea. We ordered a big piece of clementine and almond cake, a pot of tea and a plunger of coffee, which we carried on a tray in to the small glasshouse with yellow metal chairs and big wooden tables all on a dirt floor. Heavenly. We sat, ate chunks of cake, slurped our tea. Giggled. And when I thought it couldn’t get any better… after we had eaten our dessert before our lunch (this is about indulgence remember)… we walked in to a bigger greenhouse where we were seated in the restaurant. This restaurant is well-known amongst foodies due to Australian chef Greg Malouf who knows how to make exciting bitefuls. Surrounded by greenery and, again, more wooden tables, we drank prossecco and ate our meals full of fresh vegetables, oils and spices. I left Petersham feeling completely indulged in every sense – in my belly and my soul. It isn’t cheap but if you feel like an afternoon of irrational ‘pretty’, head to Petersham Nursery for an afternoon.
Mishkins
To celebrate becoming a Polish citizen – this is how I can work and live in London – I gathered a group of friends at Mishkins – a new ‘Jewish-deli-style’ restaurant in Covent Garden. This place is not really Polish cuisine, it is the kind of ‘Jewish-deli-style’ that I imagine Brooklyn’s Williamsburg invented. But that’s ok with me. Dim lights filled the coolly crafted room as we sat in our booth and ate pickles, cabbage, bagels, cheese, smoked salmon, butter on bread, salt beef and schnitzel. The drinks were yum, the atmosphere a right mix of relaxed and igniting and the food was surprisingly delicious. Mishkins is owned by the same people as restaurants Polpo, da Polpo and Spuntino, which are all equally as impressive. (Spuntino in Soho is a personal favourite).
Purl
Half gimmick, half uber-suave; this underground bar is a great way to drink. A speakeasy vibe with exposed brick walls, leather seats, dark corners, mirrors and jazz music, this… place… is… cosy. Whilst the setting is fun and fashionable, the drinks are something else. Each cocktail on the menu lists an intricate mix of words and liquefied tastes that you have never heard of, and each one comes with its own silly accessory. Cocktail number one came with a connecting balloon popped by the waitress to allow the ‘vapours’ to pour over the drink, cocktail number two was in a cardboard cup accompanied with a candy striped bag of popcorn, cocktail three came with a side of pureed blue cheese on a cracker. A cynical person will feel anguish at the trickery of such complication but for some, who can handle a bit of whimsy, it will be a lovely experience. The magic of Purl makes it a great place to hang out and scat.
At the Chapel
Let’s talk indulgence. This countryside boutique hotel (which was once a big chapel, hence the name) sits on a very small street, in a very small, beautifully mountainous area of Somerset. The hotel building holds a modest six rooms, each boasting Scandinavian-cum-baroque interiors – high ceilings, white walls, grand windows, hidden away iPod speakers, connected to a bathroom haven – stand alone white bath tub, rainfall shower and, again, gigantic windows. Spending time in that bathroom was like stretching yourself out and sighing. Beneath the rooms, Somerset locals visit the hotel’s bakery (which is open all night so guests can enjoy cake in bed at 3am), then peruse the wine in the cellar and come dine in the beautiful Michelin rated restaurant that sits in the belly of the chapel. The wood oven pizzas made fresh in the bakery can be ordered in the restaurant and every dish is worth ordering. The wide mouth of the chapel windows allow guests to dine over seriously flavoursome food, whilst looking at the stars outside. And after you drag your tummy up to your room, and wake up after an amazing night sleep, you are pleasantly surprised with croissants and jam (freshly baked, of course) outside your door on trays to be eaten in bed (of course). We followed this lazy, hazy experience with a ten mile bike ride up and down hills back to the train station– this may be less attractive for some, and the hills nearly killed my inexperienced legs – but I highly recommend the experience for the beautiful hilltop views across the countryside.
Honey and Co
The drinks at Purl (see above) were followed by a meal here in Marylebone. Having previously read about this restaurant I was very excited to finally eat what would be made by married couple and chefs Sarit Packer (head pastry chef at Ottolenghi) and Itamar Srulovich from Jerusalem. Inside a shoe box of a restaurant we spent three hours over a middle eastern feast – we enjoyed the tastes of rich lamb, chickpeas, yoghurt, dill, mint, rice, prawns, couscous, oranges, eggplant, hummus, pomegranate, goats cheese, pita, olives, avocado and wine. With our feet on green tiled floor, our eyes on the preserves waiting on warm wooden shelves and our forks in kibeh, we were happy little humans.
Tramshed
I consider eating meat a complete indulgence, only doing so when the experience warrants it, so I was pleasantly surprised to be taken by my boyfriend to Tramshed for my birthday. This restaurant warrants the eating of meat so much that I would cross over to cannablism inside its walls. Tramshed, the newest East London restaurant by chef Mark Hix, has basically two things on the menu: chicken or steak. That’s it. Juicy meat or tender meat (forget ‘or’, you can also do ‘and’). Mark Hix loves meat so much that in the middle of his chic, industrial looking restaurant is a Damien Hurst piece of art that is a stuffed cow, and a stuffed chicken, inside a glass box overlooking all the people below. Meat, eating meat, looking at meat, looking at them. It sounds revolting but it’s delectably fantastic for an exciting glamorous dinner. And it is an excellent joint for people watching – I dare say I may have seen Henry Hollande there. Henry, was that you?
I am now penniless. Stay tuned for my next piece on ‘How to have a free weekend of fun using old jars and boxes.’
