All posts filed under: London

Street Feast Round 2

And so we meet again Street Feast. Round 2. Part II. The return of the bap (Smokestak’s). Ah yes, this time I visited Smokestak not just once, but twice. In one sitting. That’s not all I had either, visiting my other old pal Mother Clucker and making a few new acquaintances on the way. I think it’s fair to say that this time I won. I came, I gnawed, I conquered. If you haven’t heard of Street Feast (check out my first visit here), it is a foodies playground, except toys are replaced by London’s finest food stalls, hop scotch becomes hopping from vendor to vendor and secret dens come in the form of hidden bars. And did I mention that there’s free beer? I walked in and took one look at it all. “Challenge accepted,” I smirked to myself, in a way just as creepy as it sounds. As any child would do unleashed in a playground, I firstly had to do a hasty lap of the area to check out all my options, literally bouncing with excitement …

Mother Clucker

‘What’s in a name? The thing we call a rose would smell just as sweet if we called it by any other name.’ –Romeo and Juliet Wise words written by Shakespeare, or perhaps more knowingly, spoken by Claire Danes for those Leanardo Dicaprio fans (i.e entire female population). Yet despite this confirmation of a names unimportance, I still found myself in desperate pursuit once I heard of a place called Mother Clucker. All I knew was it’s name – a magnificent name – without any other regards for what it sold and if it sold it well, and with that one tiny bit of information I went all Liam Neeson and hunted those mother cluckers down. Luckily for me, it turned out that Mother Clucker was good – really good. Serving chicken from a converted US Army ambulance, the truck moves around a lot, where it’s currently residing in Elys Yard in Shoreditch. The only downside was that on the day I went they weren’t serving mac and cheese or the ‘Cluckwitch’,  so we went for …

En Route

This weekends destination was Route, a cafe situated round the corner from Dalston Junction. I first found it on a Saturday morning hunt for a hangover-breakfast. You know the kind. Something that requires minimal effort/moving and arrives quickly. So I was relieved not only when we found Route within a short walking distance from where I was staying, but even more so when I saw ‘The Hangover Breakfast’ printed upon the menu. If you look to the right side of the menu and go down, you’ll also find ‘Hair of the Dog’ printed on there, but I prefer a different hangover cure thankyou very much. Food. And lots of it.   The cafe describes itself as a deli/bistro that’s inspired by the Middle East and the Mediterranean. The theme is more apparent on the lunch and dinner menu, where seasonal salads and sandwiches adorn the counter. On the breakfast menu you can go for the Mediterranean breakfast or the Shakshuka (a Middle Eastern egg dish), however there is nothing I love more than a traditional …

The Good Life

Welcome to The Good Life. Where the food is healthy, the customers are wealthy and Kanye’s 2007 lyrics will relentlessly run through your mind. The Good Life Eatery has been popping up on my Instagram feed for a while, a page I followed in hope that it would inspire some type of clean-eating diet in my life when I tried to stop eating sugar. It didn’t and I haven’t, but all the same it didn’t stop me from wanting to visit when I was attending an exhibition in the same area. Located in Kensington, I shouldn’t have been surprised when we reached the cafe to find that the prices were fairly high – particularly for someone on a student budget. But as I like to play blissful ignorance toward my impending debts, I happily went in and played wealthy Londoner for the day – a game I play a bit too well. The seating area was small, but most people were taking food away on their lunch break. It got so busy that the queue …

Caffeine Confessions

Forgive me Father for I have sinned. I made a lie on a previous post. It wasn’t intentional and at the time it was true. I really did believe that the Shoreditch Grind made the best iced mocha’s in the land. But now I have seen the light. The heavens opened and showed me the way. Like the shining star that led the 3 King’s to Jesus. Except it was in London, so it was a tiny glimmer of sunshine (at a push). And it led me to Brooklyn Coffee. See! The signs were literally right in front of me, urging me to my coffee enlightenment. I stepped in, unaware of the coffee blend I was about to taste. They didn’t even have iced mocha written on the menu, but when divine intervention is taking place nothing gets in the way. I asked the lovely workers if they do make them, and they briskly whipped me one up using their b-eautiful coffee beans. Now, I first heard about Brooklyn Coffee as I heard they were best …

Dishoom Bombay Cafe

Dishoom. Even the word tastes good to say. The sshh followed by the long ooo and finished with a definitive m. Yes it’s safe to say I have fallen quite hard for the Bombay restaurant, the new apple of my eye and the main reason why I cannot fully commit to my new vegetarian lifestyle. (I’m going with ‘part-time vegetarian’ – it has a better ring to it than ‘vegetarian apart from the occasional Dishoom breakfast.’) Loose morals aside, the Dishoom breakfast is regularly mentioned in many ‘London’s best breakfasts’ articles. I’m definitely not the first to have fallen for it. In fact everyone who I mentioned my visit to gave a knowing nod, either followed by a distant look as they recalled their own Dishoom love affair or a distant look as they tried to ignore the empty feeling of knowing they had not yet been. Maybe I just imagined that but I know that’s how I would be feeling inside. So to aid the desolate and despaired who haven’t been, I’m here to fill you in. With …