Cocktails and Curry

As rafiki would say: '(S)he's ALIVE!' 

6 months of silence and not even a particularly ace story to tell now I'm here. But with a new year and top intentions the flamingo will go a-waltzing again. Starting with... 

...Cocktails at the less-elusive-than-it-sounds The Bar With No Name (or 69 Colebrooke Row for the more conventional amongst us), tucked away just off Essex Road in Angel.

This place takes it's cocktail mixing seriously - with bar staff dressed in lab coats and a list of ingredients to make your eyes water.

Richie Rich claimed it was the best Bloody Mary he'd ever had... I had one sip of my Woodland Martini and nearly passed out - these drinks aren't for the faint hearted (or dry Jan bores). 

Playing to the speakeasy trend of being impossibly hard to find, and almost dangerously dark, this cozy and intimate bar is definitely worth a visit if you're in the 'hood. 

Slightly rosier of cheek we tottered down the road to the new Naamyaa Cafe for food. From the guys behind Busaba Eathai, the rave reviews are already stacking up for this slick little number. 

We ate at the bar and boshed through some pretty awesome spring rolls (I love spring rolls), baby calamari, stir fried prawns and chicken laksa noodles. It was good, not amazing, but a very solid GOOD - perfect for a can't-be-bothered-to-cook kind of supper.

Now onto the other resolutions... bugger.

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Lantana

Around Fitzrovia you are spoilt for choice when it comes to nice little eateries for a salad and a glass of wine at lunch, but few compare to the lovely Lantana.

Tucked away on Charlotte Place, their lunch menu is filled with the tastiest of 'light' bites, from their infamous corn fritters (served with smashed avocado and crispy bacon) to the amazing BERT (a toasted sandwich piled high with bacon, fried egg and rocket with a side of creamy aioli).

Daily specials keep it fresh and today I was treated to an amazing goats cheese, fennel and rocket tart, served with aubergine cous cous and a courgette, red pepper and feta salad. Dee-lish.

Top off with a take away coffee (their flat whites are killer) and a treat for the afternoon slump. Today the 'Hello Dolly', a white chocolate, almond and coconut square - I can feel it calling to me already. 

A perfect lunch break treat, or even for brunch on the weekend. So nice to side-step the ever growing chains and go truly independent. The kind of coffee shop we'd all like to one day own.

Good bye Dolly...

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Pop Up Friday

The Friday feeling is near impossible to suppress at the best of times, let alone pre a mammoth 4 day weekend. And so, as home-time struck last Friday for our Queen's Jubilee, me and my work pals were nearly tripping over ourselves in our haste to leave the office.

First stop was The Fourth Wall's pop-up bar in Bedford Square. A little underwhelmed by my last visit, the leafy square setting made for a much better venue and we quickly sunk a Re-Bourne, hugely restorative in it's gin and elder flower zing - yum.

It was a one-cocktail-wonder, however, as we had tickets booked for the 7.20pm seating at the much-talked about God Save the Clam. For those that aren't spoilt, tickets were steep at £40 for 3 courses. So it was with high hopes and a hearty hunger that we arrived at what looked little more than an office block just off Hackney's Richmond Road.

Four flights up, we were greeted with mugs of punch, laced with José Cuervo's Tradicional Tequila (double yum), and  a nicely decked out space with bunting and beach huts perking up the grey London sky.

Sitting down at a long gingham clad table, our starters were served. The dish was unsurprisingly meaty, the main event,  Pitt Cue Co's links, served with a deliciously salty anchovy salad cream and paprika spiced croutons. Round 2 of the Tradicional magic only serving to whet our appetites further.

And so onto clam-time good and proper and Rock Lobsta's take on the bake. Our table was presented with a collection of coloured kids' beach buckets filled to the brim with steaming shellfish, samphire and seaweed; the seafood impressive in it's variety. We got stuck in.

If I'm honest, it was quite a lot of hard work, the devilled crayfish offering up little meat for your painstaking peeling and the crab claw smashing giving somewhat hit or miss results. Having said that, there were some delicious morsels that made the battle worth it and the accompanying potatoes in smoke dripping, BBQ leeks and charcoaled corn on the cob were dangerously good.

Fingers licked and shells cleared it was time for pudding, and despite the now glacial temperatures there was no way I was missing out on an ice-cream sundae called the Fat Elvis. Sweet mama was it go-o-o-od. With a peanut butter ice-cream base, sprinkled bacon pieces and a maple-syrup drizzle - whoever Glyn is, he's a bloody genius and I only hope to visit his Screwball Sundae Bar again. Fat Elvis could very soon result in Fat Rox.

The Fat Elvis - So wrong, but SO right

Sadly the arrival of the rain forced us down from the roof top and into a nearby pub. A shame, because the DJ's were just warming up and we were starting to get a taste for that tequila... I only hope that our friends at Pitt Cue Co. and  Rock Lobsta  hold another; with a few small tweaks and a little more sunshine they'll have nailed it.

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Meat Liquor

I am certainly not quick off the mark in my first visit to this much-mentioned place, but I will most definitely be quick to go back. Opened last November, following the great success of their Meatwagon and #Meateasy pop-up, Yianni Papoutsis and Scott Collins' burger joint Meat Liquor is fast becoming legendary. 

Testament to this, my burger-loving friend Alice and I rocked up in Welbeck St last night to find a queue winding itself alarmingly far down the street - and that's 6 months on from it's opening.

Unfazed (we had been warned), we got in line and got chatting and half an hour later, caught up and properly hungry, we were at the door and on in to the grungy darkness of the joint.

This place is cool - an ornate, historical building tarted up with graffiti, a bit of grime and good tunes thrown in - Alice and I agreed it would make for quite nice little date venue.

Lit only by red strip lighting and tea lights in jam jars, we more or less felt our way to the bar and, on the recommendation of the mighty friendly barman (oi oi), I had a tankard of the 'House grog' in hand before I knew it. Slightly intimidating with it's '2 serves per person' limit, the grog packed quite a punch but it's Um Bongo sour sweetness was just the antidote to another 'Terrible Tuesday'. 

Settled into the swing by our cocktails, we were taken to our table - a nice 'breakfast' bar in the centre of the restaurant beneath the impressive domed ceiling. Perched on high stools, we debated the menu, settling for a starter of deep fried pickles, followed by a bacon cheeseburger each and a side of fries to share.

Oh mama - such fatty boum boum bliss! The battered pickles were heaven-sent. A pretty serious gherkin fan, I was almost more excited about these than I was about the burger. And they didn't disappoint: the batter was crisp and hot, almost sweet, the bite of the pickle bringing a delicious tang, not to mention the creamy blue cheese dunking dip. 

Appetites well and truly whetted, our burgers arrived in all their greasy glory. The buns were beautifully soft, with a nice glazed shine. The bacon and cheese generously layered. The burger was a hearty affair, a tasty hunk of proper meat - my one teeny gripe, that it could have been rarer, but then I am a French girl, meat could always be rarer. Anyway, we bloody nailed it, leaving behind only a couple of little chips we just couldn't squeeze in. 

Licking my sauce covered fingers and patting my tum I thought to myself, probably a good thing this wasn't a date. 

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