Egg Break, 1st May

My insta feed is always full of eggy goodness pictures from newly opened Eggbreak in Notting Hill. So it was the logical choice for a brunch date a few weeks ago.

Of course, I had to choose an egg dish. I had the corn cakes with poached eggs and sriracha hollandaise. I have to say, the cooking was uneven. One of my eggs had the most watery yolk when I pierced it. It gushed everywhere in a way that was almost offputting enough for me to send it back. The other egg, however, was overcooked and didn’t ooze anywhere at all. Flavourwise, the dish was fantastic so I forgave them the consistency. The hollandaise had a pleasant piquancy to it and the corn cakes had a lovely texture and flavour.

My friend had the crunchy French toast which was stuffed with banana and blueberries. If I liked berries then I would have had complete food envy, the bite I had of the plain French toast was divine. Crunchy is the way forward.

I ordered a bloody mary as well (it’s brunch – dem’s the rulz) but it wasn’t anything to write home about.

The place had a bit of a country pantry feel to it, bright but homely. And our waitress was super – she bonded with my friend over shared travel experiences.

The friend I went with came from way out West to meet me so Notting Hill was kind of in the middle for us. I did like the place and if I lived locally I’m sure I would give it another shot or two. I especially like that they do eggs all day – I wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping all day and missing brunch o’clock as I often do. 

Morning Gloryville and Electric Diner, 20th June

Morning Gloryville is not on my List and would never have been put on my List because I would never realistically get up at 6 am just to go raving. Before work. I barely like getting up that early to go on holiday, let alone something I do most weekends.

But, they decided to launch a weekend version, which – provided I didn’t go out to all hours the night before – I thought wouldn’t entail getting up too unreasonably early for me. Of course, me being me, I didn’t end up going to sleep until around 3 am anyway on Friday night, but I was up at 9 the next day and at the venue just after 10. (Why oh why when it is normally held at Oval Space, within walking distance of my flat, did it have to be all the way over in West London?!)

Anyway, I went and I had an amazing time. I danced from the moment I got there to the moment they finished. At first I was worried. I had been concerned it would be a bit too hippiefied for me and the song playing when I arrived was something ‘uplifting’ which is not my thing. I like bass and I like it dutty. But soon they were playing all sorts, especially a lot of drum n bass and I didn’t want to stop dancing. Right at the end it all got a bit too spiritual for me, with everyone participating in a ‘grounding’ but overall I really loved it.

And what was especially good about it was that after three hours of solid dancing, I felt I could treat myself to a brunch at the Electric Diner, a short walk away. I went for a slightly healthier option as I fancied getting a milkshake too, so I had avocado on toast with a poached egg. The place was pretty buzzing but they managed to squeeze me in at the bar, which is perfect for solo dining.

I have to say I didn’t love it. It just wasn’t hot enough! A less than lukewarm poached egg is not optimum and the toast could have been… toastier. The avocado was nice enough but the chilli did not have a big enough hit. My Oreo milkshake was pretty good. It was certainly thick and creamy and had actual ice cream in it. The only thing I would say about that is I had to ask for a spoon because all the oreo collected at the bottom and it’s a bit odd they didn’t provide one with it straight away. All in all, it didn’t leave me with a desire to rush back and try everything else on the menu. 

5 x 15, 19th January

5 x 15 is basically Salon for older, posher people. Five speakers talk on a subject in which they are knowledgeable for 15 minutes each. When we went, all those topics seemed to tie in with their latest book they wanted to plug but I suppose that may not always be the case.

Tickets are a very expensive £27 with booking fee for only an hour and a quarter’s worth of entertainment, and they mostly take place in the leafy ‘burbs of Westbourne Park at The Tabernacle.

The event said it started at 7pm but, with things like Book Slam and Salon in mind, we figured that would be a rough approximation, so when we got a bit lost and were ten minutes late, we weren’t too worried. We were completely wrong though – the entire place was full and Johann Hari was nearing the end of his talk. We hastily grabbed the last couple of seats available.

Must admit, even though Johann Hari had been one of the reasons I wanted to go to this particular event, of several coming up, having caught only the last of his talk, I wasn’t too bothered we didn’t hear the rest of it. He came across as rather too earnest in his speech about drug addicts and how we all need to remember that they’re people too. Perhaps simply because I already know this, it was a little cheesy and I can imagine sitting through 15 minutes of that might have been rather wearing. Plus he’s been all over the internet lately saying the same thing so I didn’t feel I missed much.

The others on the bill were Theodore Zeldin, Anita Anand, Alex Bellos and Germaine Greer. Most of the talks were pretty lighthearted and entertaining as well as educating. Theodore Zeldin spoke amusingly of how our civilization isn’t working, yet we stubbornly stick to what we’ve always done. That we need to start thinking about things from an individualistic point of view rather than ‘the masses’ and how he spends his time listening to people and learning about people.

Anitathen told us all about a fascinating character in history – Sophia Duleep Singh. A Punjabi princess who was born and raised in England, she seemed to live several lives in her one lifetime, including being a major player in the suffragette movement. Anand told us just enough to pique our interest and leave me wanting to know more about this headstrong woman.

We then had a ten minute break for people to get a drink, or go to the loo. We noticed then quite how posh everyone seemed to be compared to us, and that there must be quite a few regulars as they’d all come prepared with a bit of a picnic!

After the break we had my favourite talk of the night – on numbers! How can numbers be so entertaining? Well, when presented by Alex Bellos they are. He had a very comedic way about him, especially as his manner reminded me of Eddie Izzard, but what he was talking about was funny anyway. As a mathematician he is often asked what his favourite number is, and he always thought it a very silly question, until he realized lots of people DO have a favourite number. So he did a little research on it via the interwebs. Over 40,000 people took part, giving their A/S/L, their favourite number, and why. He presented us with the Top Ten fave numbers (7 was at number 1) along with some theorizing as to why, and then also shared with us some of the reasons people had given.

And finally we had Germaine Greer, by far the biggest name on the list. You might think she were there to speak on a feminist tract or give her views on social media and feminisim or similar but actually, she wanted to share with us this project she has been working on. She has bought a patch of land in Australia and is helping to regenerate its native ecosystem and replenish the natural wildlife. Her message – we can all do this. Lay claim to somewhere and take care of it.

I found all the talks interesting and there was no question that each speaker did a good job (incidentally, all the talks are online here). But the night was wrapped up by 8:30, sharp! I had expected them to eke it out a bit longer, maybe have some more interaction with the speakers and make an evening of it, but no – it was literally, introduction, talk, introduction, talk, break and repeat until we were done and we were all leaving!

The speakers were all indeed quite eminent if not superstars but considering you do get some pretty big names at, say, Damian Barr’s Literary Salon, I’m not really sure this event deserves its price tag. For my money, if I want educating and entertaining talks, I’m sticking with Salon London.

The Little Yellow Door, 11th December

The Little Yellow Door is an excellent concept. What is better than a house party? A house party that someone else hosts, that’s what. And this is what The Little Yellow Door aims to be. They have taken over the Blagclub (somewhere close to my heart) and turned it into a simulacrum of a flatshare. Thursdays is open for drinks, Friday they host a dinner party and then stay open for drinks, and Saturday is supposed to get ramped up for a late night proper party.

I couldn’t wait to go and try it out. We thought we’d go for some festive drinks on the Thursday, and then, if we liked it, come back sometime for the Saturday night party.

One of their unique things is the fact that you can make a booking through Whatsapp, just as if you were just texting a friend about coming by. I asked them if I needed to make a booking if I had a group coming, and they said it depended on whether I wanted an area reserved or just have drinks at the bar. I said I’d have an area if possible and they said they’d check but asked if drinks at the bar would be ok if not. I said yes. Then I got an email saying I’d made a reservation for 11 people. I assumed that meant I’d booked an area. But when my friends turned up, no such area existed. Not really a problem but just a little confusing so not the best start to the evening.

However, we were happy to take in the atmosphere and have a few drinks nonetheless. They have done quite a good job of making the place feel like someone’s house. There’s some mismatched furniture – tables and chairs. There is bric a brac lying around, shoes by the door and the girls’ bathroom is full of toiletries. They’d put up a tree and some antlers and Santa hats, making it feel very Christmassy. So, we liked it. My group spotted that there was a table empty until 8:30 and thought we’d sit down while we could, being as it was still only 6:30. The staff at Little Yellow Door had other ideas, with one member particularly insistent that we couldn't sit there, even though the space was going to waste for the next two hours. Eventually, with much persuading they gave in and we sat down until the reserving party arrived. So, we’re starting to get a bit of a sour taste in our mouths. 

This continued when it came time to get the drinks and food in. On the Thursday they serve the kind of finger food you’d expect at a house party. My friends ordered the cheese on toast and got a cocktail each. Their bill wasn't cheap at £17 per person. It might not have been quite so much, except for the fact that a service charge was automatically added. Which seemed a little odd considering you had to order at the bar. Then my friend waited for her food to arrive. And waited and waited. An hour. It was especially grating that she had paid in advance for service which was then awful. To be fair, someone evidently spotted her getting in a bit of a rage and gave her a drink on the house.

I thought maybe the food alone was what incurred the service charge so went to the bar and ordered the Crime of Passion - £8.95. Perfect! I had £9 in coins on me. The bartender asked for £9.75. I queried it and he explained it was the service charge. But I’m sorry, Little Door, that is not how bars work. If you are offering me table service, then yes, I will pay a service charge. If I have to go to the bar, wait and order, then I am paying the price of my drink only, and may leave a tip if I'm particularly wowed. As I'd been sort of forewarned I had the wits to ask for the service charge to be taken off, which the bartender did quite graciously. But normally I probably would have just paid it and then felt like I was being taken advantage of. 

We had a couple more drinks, and the place emptied out a bit and we sat down for a while. It was pleasant, but it did just feel like a bar. And a bar that wasn’t that different to other places I’ve been. It did, in fact, remind me of another Little Yellow Door, AKA Manero’s, in Dalston, where the place is so small and intimate it feels like you’re at a house party. The quirky décor was a bit more detailed to what might be found in any old East London bar but that wasn’t quite enough. What would have been great is if they took the concept even further – had some fake housemates there to greet you, ask you if you want a brewski, bring your drink over (maybe that would warrant the service charge). You know – the way a real host at a party would. Maybe some extra fun and games (karaoke? a pinata? a way for guests to pick the music?) would help make it seem more on-theme. 

So, great concept. Execution? Not so much and I probably won't be schlepping over to West London to try out their Saturday nights.  

Notting Hill Manholes, 22nd July

You would almost definitely never notice them unless you looked for them, but dotted around the Notting Hill area are seven decorated manholes. I finally got around to hunting them out this weekend. Of course, half the fun of finding them is the actual searching, and Time Out, from whom I found out about them, only gives you a starting point – outside Daunt bookshop on Holland Park Avenue and tells you the rest are around Notting Hill Gate. I think this is rather misleading and after thoroughly scouring what I considered to be ‘around Notting Hill Gate’ I had only found two. Very discouraging. I hate to cheat, but I realised that I could wander for days without perhaps stumbling upon the others. I needed, at the very least, to know how wide ranging they were, but in the end I found something on the Net that told you exactly which roads they were on. Now, I don’t want to give the game away for any who might be tempted to have a look for them themselves, so I won’t list where they all are here. However, I have roughly indicated the area in which you have to walk to find them all. As you can see it’s pretty big! 

If, after a while you’re thinking of giving up the ghost, then you can always refer to the source I used to discover them all here.

I love stuff like this. I love how they’re just dotted around and no one would ever know they were there. Someone may be lucky enough to happen to look down and see an unusual manhole but they would never guess that six more of similar ilk were out there. I also like that someone took something so ordinary and unnoticeable, so everyday and functional, and turned it into something interesting and appealing to look at. While I was scrutinising every manhole on the stretch of Notting Hill, I came across a few others that I actually thought might be candidates for the decorated ones; I hadn’t realised before that there were such variations. Or maybe it is only in the Notting Hill area that there are. Whatever the case, it will make me look twice at manholes from now on.

The other benefit of stuff like this is that it encourages you to walk around and take in an area. I don’t often go out to West London and I forgot what a nice place it is. Not just amazing, grand houses that will make you green with envy, but also the very lively Portobello Road, and, walking down some of the lesser known streets, I walked past lots of inviting cafes and bars. The sun was shining and people were dining and drinking al fresco. It was very pleasant to wander among them. One in place particular caught my eye – Julie’s Wine Bar. It had tables strewn outside it, all occupied with smiling, happily fed people. One for the List I think.

The manholes themselves I think looked good, even if some of them were rather lacking in content. The text was provided by artists/writers all from or residing in the Notting Hill area. I didn't really recognise many of the names apart from of course Sebastian Faulkes and P.D. James. The photos are captioned with their authors. And so, as proof that I did track down all seven manholes, here they are:

Margaret Drabble

P.D. James

Sebastian Faulkes

Michael Holroyd

Hugh Thomas

Colin Huborn

John Heath-Stubbs

Mulberry Street, 7th October

We were supposed to eat at Mulberry Street the night before, a pizza place I’d heard of from Yelp because it was close to the pub we were going to. But we skipped food in favour of more drink. However, we ended up there the next day. Alison’s hotel was in Lancaster Gate and when we were finally able to get up and get out (we’d ‘retired’ to bed at about 7 am) we were in the mood for brunch. And we knew just the place that was close by – Harlem. We’ve been there several times before when Alison lived in that area and we absolutely loved it. Much to our dismay, we got to the end of the street it was on and realised it wasn’t there. It seems to be Tiny Robot now, which I think also does brunches but it was shut when we got there. As we’d searched for Harlem, we passed Mulberry Street and we decided to try it instead. Why not stick with the New York theme?

This place boasts about serving NY style pizza. They even go so far as to match the water they use for the dough to NY samples. And I love American pizza. So thin, so big, it’s hard to describe what’s so good about it and I don’t know why it tastes different to English ‘pies’. Maybe it’s just because they use the word ‘pie’ and we don’t. They had a lunch deal on – 2 courses and a soft drink for £10 which seemed silly not to do. You get a choice of two things in each course – bruschetta or salad to start, then a veggie Mediterranean pizza or a pepperoni pizza. The choice of pizzas on the a la carte was fairly standard, but you could also customise them. Anyway, we didn’t have those, we had the deal. The starters were average. Stephen got the salad and that was impressively large. Alison and I got the bruschetta which was definitely nice and fresh but the bread wasn’t at all toasted. It was much better once we’d poured the chilli oil provided all over it. Alison had the Mediterranean pizza, I ordered the pepperoni pizza and Stephen also had the pepperoni pizza even though he’d ordered the vegetarian one. (I don’t know why he did this, he loves meat). The waiter had not written our order down and had inevitably messed it up.

I don’t think I can say that these pizzas were genuine NY pizzas. I think the whole problem is the size. A real NY pizza is so big, you only eat two slices of it, and you’d buy one for everyone to share (which you would probably be able to get half of one kind, half of another). As soon as you scale it down to something one person can eat (or at least make a good stab at), you lose something. The bendiness, the foldability. Taste wise, it was good, and it was the right thickness (meaning it was very thin). And being able to add your own chilli flakes and parmesan also helped. I’d definitely go back there, but I can’t say it was the real deal. Just a damn good pizza.

Find the menu & restaurant information on Zomato