Five Food Things - the London Edition
I've been trying to post this shit 500 times now. Please LJ. Please let me post this on my fucking journal.
Post under the cut is a liiiiittle bit image heavy, sissy bandwidths may want to keep out.
#1. I couldn't feel I was really in London until I took my first proper English breakfast of my stay right after my arrival at St Pancras
It was absolutely perfect, exactly what I needed. I never understood the concept of "comfort food" before this.
And I ate it at a 100% authentic greasy spoon café called...
*drumrolls*
Yes. L'Angelo. Nothing to do with anything but I'm such a big dork that I was squeeing (silently, on the inside) a little bit. Because. You know.
Anyway.
It's a typical run-down little canteen, and I kind of love it. Shabby eating places like that feel like the very heart of London to me.
How adorable is that, srsly?
#2. Lunch at a pub near the British Library. Not a good memory. Didn't feel like a burger, so I ordered the Caesar Salad. Almost £8, and despite what it said on the menu, IT DIDN'T HAVE ANY ANCHOVIES IN IT. AAAAARRRRHHH!!! DO NOT DEPRIVE ME OF MY ANCHOVIES, GORRAMMIT!!! >_____< If this had happened in France, I would've sent the plate back. But I was a bit intimidated and felt like a n00b because I didn't know you had to order at the counter in a pub, plus the salad took about twenty minutes to get to my table (20 minutes! For a salad! In a pub that was almost empty! Are you kidding me?) and I was afraid it would take even more time if I told them the anchovies were missing (like maybe they would go fishing for them or something).
It featured three leaves of lettuce, barely, thick dry pieces of chicken breast and was drowned in dressing. At least the croutons were good. T_____T
#3. Portobello market on a Saturday: STREET FOOD OMG! I love street food as much as I love greasy spoons, and that is: A LOT.
So I had lunch there, obviously: first, fried chorizo sandwich, with tomato, arugula and ciabatta bread.
So good. SO GOOD. I thought I wanted to marry it, but then I tasted this organic frozen yogurt with fresh (and I mean, FRESH. SUPER FRESH) red berries:
And I seriously considered food bigamy. Is that even legal?
#4. Brick Lane on a Sunday: MOAR STREET FOOD! STREET FOOD EVERYWHERE!!! *is in heaven*
*dies. OH GOD. Didn't taste those rib sandwiches but THEY LOOKED FIIIIIIINE. Supposedly I didn't want to have greasy food for lunch that day, but then I saw a churros stall and thought, fuck it. I've only known one type of churros, which is, sticks of fried dough that you dip into some sweet sauce. But you see, the guy who sold them at Brick Lane made them really thick, rolled them in sugar and cinnamon after he'd fried them and then, with a needle-thingy pronged machine, he squeezed dulce de leche *inside*.
IT WAS DELICIOUS AND UTTERLY OBSCENE. I'D HAVE THAT AGAIN ANY TIME.
#5. I'm staying at my cousin's during this London holiday, and she graciously promised she would prepare a typical English Sunday meal for me:
Featuring peas, cauliflower gratin, potatoes;
steak and ale pie;
(everything smelled and tasted so good I can't even)
And to wash it down, sticky toffee pudding with vanilla custard for dessert.
VERY NAUGHTY. VERY, VERY NAUGHTY. I felt like crying of happiness.
All the while my cousin was apologizing, saying it was a very "boring" dinner. IS *THIS* WHAT "BORING" IS TO YOU, ENGLISH PEOPLE? OMG WHY DID YOU LET THE REST OF THE WORLD BELIEVE THAT YOUR FOOD WAS BAD DURING ALL THOSE CENTURIES???
Maybe there will be another post, maybe not, since it seems my memory stick is completely fucked and I have to find a place where I can buy a new one.
Post under the cut is a liiiiittle bit image heavy, sissy bandwidths may want to keep out.
#1. I couldn't feel I was really in London until I took my first proper English breakfast of my stay right after my arrival at St Pancras
It was absolutely perfect, exactly what I needed. I never understood the concept of "comfort food" before this.
And I ate it at a 100% authentic greasy spoon café called...
*drumrolls*
Yes. L'Angelo. Nothing to do with anything but I'm such a big dork that I was squeeing (silently, on the inside) a little bit. Because. You know.
Anyway.
It's a typical run-down little canteen, and I kind of love it. Shabby eating places like that feel like the very heart of London to me.
How adorable is that, srsly?
#2. Lunch at a pub near the British Library. Not a good memory. Didn't feel like a burger, so I ordered the Caesar Salad. Almost £8, and despite what it said on the menu, IT DIDN'T HAVE ANY ANCHOVIES IN IT. AAAAARRRRHHH!!! DO NOT DEPRIVE ME OF MY ANCHOVIES, GORRAMMIT!!! >_____< If this had happened in France, I would've sent the plate back. But I was a bit intimidated and felt like a n00b because I didn't know you had to order at the counter in a pub, plus the salad took about twenty minutes to get to my table (20 minutes! For a salad! In a pub that was almost empty! Are you kidding me?) and I was afraid it would take even more time if I told them the anchovies were missing (like maybe they would go fishing for them or something).
It featured three leaves of lettuce, barely, thick dry pieces of chicken breast and was drowned in dressing. At least the croutons were good. T_____T
#3. Portobello market on a Saturday: STREET FOOD OMG! I love street food as much as I love greasy spoons, and that is: A LOT.
So I had lunch there, obviously: first, fried chorizo sandwich, with tomato, arugula and ciabatta bread.
So good. SO GOOD. I thought I wanted to marry it, but then I tasted this organic frozen yogurt with fresh (and I mean, FRESH. SUPER FRESH) red berries:
And I seriously considered food bigamy. Is that even legal?
#4. Brick Lane on a Sunday: MOAR STREET FOOD! STREET FOOD EVERYWHERE!!! *is in heaven*
*dies. OH GOD. Didn't taste those rib sandwiches but THEY LOOKED FIIIIIIINE. Supposedly I didn't want to have greasy food for lunch that day, but then I saw a churros stall and thought, fuck it. I've only known one type of churros, which is, sticks of fried dough that you dip into some sweet sauce. But you see, the guy who sold them at Brick Lane made them really thick, rolled them in sugar and cinnamon after he'd fried them and then, with a needle-thingy pronged machine, he squeezed dulce de leche *inside*.
IT WAS DELICIOUS AND UTTERLY OBSCENE. I'D HAVE THAT AGAIN ANY TIME.
#5. I'm staying at my cousin's during this London holiday, and she graciously promised she would prepare a typical English Sunday meal for me:
Featuring peas, cauliflower gratin, potatoes;
steak and ale pie;
(everything smelled and tasted so good I can't even)
And to wash it down, sticky toffee pudding with vanilla custard for dessert.
VERY NAUGHTY. VERY, VERY NAUGHTY. I felt like crying of happiness.
All the while my cousin was apologizing, saying it was a very "boring" dinner. IS *THIS* WHAT "BORING" IS TO YOU, ENGLISH PEOPLE? OMG WHY DID YOU LET THE REST OF THE WORLD BELIEVE THAT YOUR FOOD WAS BAD DURING ALL THOSE CENTURIES???
Maybe there will be another post, maybe not, since it seems my memory stick is completely fucked and I have to find a place where I can buy a new one.