The Three Crowns and Baby Bathhouse, 10th December

As Christmas was fast approaching, we thought it would be nice to go for a nice meal (well, nice but not too pricey) with some of our close friends. We had been considering the Princess of Shoreditch, at which I had eaten before, but our friend suggested the Three Crowns instead. I had already done some investigating of the Three Crowns when trying to find somewhere to go for my boyfriend's birthday. It is owned by the same people who own the Social in King's Cross which I quite like, and below there is a club which is on my list called The Drop. I had subsequently put the Three Crowns on my list so I was more than happy to go. I had said to Stephen that the next time we went out, we should go to Church Street in Stoke Newington, which is where this is. That's the downside of the place and why we'd decided against it for his birthday - for most people Stokey feels too far out (and not in the Sixties sense). But it's not too hard to get to from Mile End.

The pub is great. We only had one drink before sitting down to eat, but I really liked the feel of it. There was quite a young crowd (well, young but not teens) and even a couple of children, but I won't hold that against them. I could easily imagine coming back for a few drinks. The meal, on the other hand, was a little disappointing. The menu sounded pretty good, but it didn't really deliver on it's potential. It was perfectly edible, just nothing spectacular. I started with a salad consisting of some of my fabourite vegetables - courgettes, sweet potato, butternut squash and halloumi. That was great. And then I had the duck which came with mashed potato, some wilted greens (spinach) and a berry jus. The jus was pretty good actually - nice and sweet and a good amount. The mashed potato was weirdly dry (I didn't realise you could get mash wrong), and the duck was inconsistent - some bits were just right, others were overcooked. So, nothing to really turn your nose up at, but I wouldn't go back for the food. 

It was about 10 pm by the time we finished, and Stephen and I felt it was a bit early to be heading back, though our companions had further to travel than we did and so departed. I wanted to take advantage of the fact that we were on Church Street and see some of the other venues I had on my list. I would have been quite happy to just head downstairs to see what The Drop was like, but that night they were playing some cheesy 90s stuff or something which didn't interest me at all. Such a shame, because almost every other night of December it looked like that had had some pretty good acts on (people from Moshi Moshi for example).

So I thought we could try the Lion up the road, also owned by the same people. I had originally decided to go to the Baby Bathhouse but felt like, with just the two of us, pretty sober, maybe it wasn't the right night for it and we should just to go another pub for a nightcap. But when we got to the Lion, it looked like they were showing the football, which didn't appeal, and lo and behold, the Bathhouse was exactly opposite beckoning us to enter.

So enter we did. It wasn't what I was expecting. It was tiny!! Tiny!! We had a couple of cocktails and enjoyed the music. I think when we first ventured in, they were playing Aretha Franklin, and by the time we descended the stairs to the club part below, they had moved through the decades to Hot Chip. So, the music policy upstairs was pretty top notch - and had been the reason we wanted to go there. It made me regret not making it to the original Bathhouse before it shut, because they played similar tunes there, and wonder why they didn't keep it open. The baby version seemed popular enough to warrant a bigger venue.

As I said, there was a club part below and I had a look on the wall to see what kind of night it was. I believe they called it a Disco Goth night. Sounded perfect to me! So we went down with our second drink to see what was going on. It was pretty dead down there, but it was still only about 11:15 so for all I know it could have become a hotbed of dancing fervour later on. The music was certainly good and put us in the mood for staying out for a bigger night. I don't know what I imagined Disco Goth would be, but this was pretty atmospheric, dark, industrialised house music and I liked it. It really suited the ambience of the basement we were in, which was all darkness and decadence. The whole place, upstairs and down, reeks of opulence and Gothicness, a combination that speaks to me. But we weren't on for a big one that night and wanted to get the tube back so we left after only a short while. 

I'll definitely go back, and would do so frequently if Stoke Newington weren't just that tad bit too far.

The Nightjar, Roadtrip and The Russian bar, 21st December

My friend Alison was back in town, and if you have been reading this blog for a while you'll know that this means we were about to hit a few cocktail joints. The first two, Nightjar and Roadtrip, I'd heard of when I made a plea to Secret London to suggest some cocktail bars in Old Street when I was going out with colleagues. We didn't end up going to either but I liked the sound of them so they went on my list.

I then found myself almost going to Nightjar when Stephen and I were looking for somewhere to celebrate our anniversary (literally wandering into Shoreditch looking) and I remembered Nightjar. We sauntered over, it being around 7 pm and were told they had a full house. Reservations were clearly highly recommended. 

And so, I was sure to make them. I asked for a spot between 7 and 9 and was told they were very busy that night, would 6 to 8:30 suit instead? That was fine by us, we don't mind an early start drinking, even though Alison would have only got into the country 6 hours previously.

Close-up of the Cobbler

The Nightjar is another one of those speakeasy type places, and from the outside it really carries this off as you would never know there was a bar there if you didn't know already. There's just a door, with a small logo of the bar on it,in between two shops. You descend the stairs to find yourself in an intimate, yet spacious enough, dimly lit hideaway. There are lots of little tables lit by candlelight and we were seated near the piano. Unfortunately there was no live music while we were there, but they do often have live acts playing swing and the like. Instead we had background music which was on the 1940s side and perfectly suited our surroundings. There are about 4 double page spreads of cocktails, arranged by era (pre-Prohibition, Prohibition etc) and that is almost too much choice. They all sound fantastic. I started with a 24 Volt Cobbler, which turned out to be my favourite of the night featuring chocolate and maple syrup flavours and yet still managing not to be too sweet. They not only take the taste of their cocktails seriously, they also spend a fair amount of time on the presentation as well. I've never seen such gorgeous-looking drinks! They were like sculptures or flower arrangements. 

Volt cobbler and Islands in the Stream

Toreador and something else!

Airmail and Ladybird complete with slab of chocolate

My least favourite cocktail was the Toreador, because even thought it was nice, it did just remind me of a Margarita. I was back on form with my last drink though - the Airmail featuring orange blossom honey water and champagne, and Alison's last cocktail was a rival to my first, with prune and belgian truffle liquer offset by Caribbean spices. 

There were lots of unusual ingredients that I am excited to go back to try. Like ginger and raisin sake! Or griddled korean pear. The prices are a little above what you'd pay in a normal bar, but for this quality, it's worth it. The only downside is that some of the cocktails came with metal straws. It looks nice, and keeps the liquid cold as it travels the short distance from glass to mouth, but the straws were a bit too long for a short person like me, and metal is fairly resistant to being bent down. It also tastes of metal. 

They have food too, and we had planned on having some, but couldn't decide on what so asked for some bread with oil to start. The waitress, however, took the menu away after that so we couldn't be bothered to ask for it again. It was tapas-based, with quite a lot of seafood.

We were then on to the next venue - the Hoxton Pony for an old school hip hop night, but we thought we'd pop in to Roadtrip on the way for one. We were feeling a bit full from the cocktails so we just had wine. Roadtrip is a kind of diner themed place. The decor inside is pretty funky but it did feel a bit too much like a theme bar to me. Just before we left we went downstairs where some jazz was going on. No one was serving down there and everyone seemed genuinely into the music, which wasn't our scene so we beat a hasty departure.

And came to the Pony, which was kinda dead! The downstairs was shut and there was no sign of the hip hop/music video fliming that the website mentioned. So that was disappointing but we got chatting to some people and so we ended up staying. The Hoxton Pony is a very sleek place, very stylish, but I felt it was a little soulless. Perhaps this is just because it wasn't busy. I wasn't sad when it closed for the evening.

Our companions wanted to continue the night, and we never say no to staying out, so we went with them to Trafik, a bar I have never really liked and being there this night didn't change my mind. That shut after an hour and there was talk of going somewhere else! It was 3 am by this time. I was doubtful that anywhere would be open.

But that was because, even though I knew of the Russian bar - a late night venue on Kingsland Road, I didn't know that it was a late night venue every night. So we went! As soon as they said it was open, I wanted to go - can't let an opportunity to cross something off my list pass me by. I was also pretty drunk by this point, which may have been the overriding factor.

And which also means my description of the place is probably a little lacking. It was smaller than I imagined it would be. And reminded me of Ye Olde Axe - there was a little bar on the side, with the same carved wooden posts. But this place played housey dance music as opposed to rockabilly. The dance floor was small but absolutely packed! God knows who these reprobates out clubbing until 5 o'clock were, but there were a lot of them! 

I'd go here again if I ever happen to be at a loss for what to do on a weekday night at 3 in the morning again (unlikely but not impossible), but at weekends Ye Olde Axe might just have it for being closer to where I tend to end up. 

V & A Museum of Childhood, 10th December

I didn't have much of a desire to go to this museum, if truth be told. But I saw from my various sources that they have several exhibitions on at the moment, that were up my kind of street. 

The first was The Stuff of Nightmares which promised to transform the Front Area into a dark and nightmarish forest where the retelling of Fundevogel plays out. It was actually made by local schoolchildren and sounded creepy. It was pretty disappointing. There was a small 'forest' with some macabre looking children's playthings and a TV playing an odd animation on a loop which almost gave me goosebumps. Almost. 

So it was with baited breath, for all the wrong reasons that we went into the museum to look at the other exhibition I wanted to see - My Giant Colouring Book. This was also on the small side. 21 pictures by Jake and Dinos Chapman. They were images based on children's join the dots pictures but fleshed out and made altogether unwholesome. But even though there wasn't much to the exhibition, I thought it was really good. You could just about see the original shape in them all and some of the images were pretty disturbing considering their origins were in innocent pictures. It didn't feel right that children should be running among them. Below are two of my favourite.

Considering the two main reasons I wanted to come took all of ten minutes to look through, we thought we might as well take a look at what else the museum had to offer. It is free after all. And I'm glad I did - it's actually quite fun! Apart from the fact that there are kids running all over the place. But I suppose you shouldn't begrudge children enjoying themselves in a museum all about children. Well, childhood, which basically means a museum of toys. 

There's a hell of a lot in there and the museum have done their best to insert some interactivity into it, with a few coin operated displays and some free stuff for the kids to get into. 

So yes. Toys and toys and toys all through the ages. It was like stepping back in time. Stephen and I enjoyed pointing out to each other the toys we'd had when we were young and I personally enjoyed marvelling at the grand dollhouses. But after a while it did get a bit tiresome and by the time we'd got up to the other exhibition I was interested in: Magic Worlds, we were ready to leave. It wasn't that amazing anyway. And so I leave you now, with a video of my favourite thing from the museum... Wood... as waves.

Sir John Soane's Mausoleum, 9th December

After severely stuffing myself for lunch, I thought a little pedestrian journey might be a good idea to walk it all off. Considering I was round the back of St Pancras, I figured St Pancras Gardens wasn't too far and I should go round there to have a look-see at the Soane mausoleum. 

It's amazing all the tranquil places you can find in London. I have always had a fondness for cemeteries (at least in the daytime) - they're just as good a place to rest as a park and often much less crowded. I wonder how many people even know about St Pancras Gardens as it's as in the middle of nowhere as you can get while still being within London. I came to the back entrance, which doesn't announce what it is, but I was pretty sure it was the right spot. I was correct. A minute in and I knew I'd found what I was looking for, because it was the only tomb in the place with a fence around it. So that was a shame because it would have been nice to get up close. But, being rather grand and a little bit famous, it seemed to have gotten some unwanted attention and thus the fence was necessary.

So who is this Soane guy anyway? He was an architect and designed his own tomb (morbid much?) for him and his family. You may have heard of some of his other works - the Bank of England for example. He also lends his name to the Soane Museum in Lincoln's Inn Fields which is actually his old house and filled with weird and wonderful artefacts that he collected from around the world. Asides from the Bank though, one of the lasting gifts he gave the world of architecture was to inspire the designer of the iconic red telephone booths by this very tomb (hence my desire to see it).  You'll see what I mean when you look at the photo below.

So this is just a short and sweet entry as there's not much to say about it. St Pancras Old Church is actually rather pretty so I took a picture of that as well.

The Rib man, 9th December

The meat to bread ratio. I'm going to say that again. The meat to bread ratio. It is all important. How many times have you had a pulled pork sandwich, a burger, or one of those hog roast sandwiches, stalls of which can be found at every festival and market and ended up vaguely disappointed. And I can tell you for why - the meat to bread ratio is all wrong. And sometimes the bread is of the wrong type as well. As a bread lover, you would think the more bread the better for me, but I'm quite particular in how my sandwiches are compiled. The bread should not drown the filling and unfortunately it too often does.

Someone who clearly understands this is The Rib Man. Normally to be found on Brick Lane on a Sunday, this guy has taken one of everybody's (I use the word everybody here liberally) favourite foods and made it a gazillion times better. Ribs. Ribs are great. But what is the annoying thing about them? That they're on ribs. They're messy and annoying to eat, you have to make loads to get a decent haul of meat off of them. If only there were some other way...

Well, The Rib Man has provided the answer. He goes through all the trouble of marinating these ribs from outside reared Norfolk and Suffolk pigs and then slow cooking them. He then takes all the meat off the bones and serves it up in bread rolls or wraps. Actually, you can also buy them in their natural form on the bone as well if you so wish. 

Ooh saucy! And possibly as big as my head

I went up to Eat Street again today and he was there. That's why I went - to try him out. I saw that there were a few wraps already made and keeping warm but I wanted to try out the roll. The wraps looked good - pretty stuffed and the meat looked great, but I just had the feeling that the real test would be in the roll. So that's what I asked the lady serving for. They had a couple ready made in some paper bags but the guy 'in back' (who I can only assume is the Rib Man himself) said, wait a minute - I'll make a fresh one. And he grabbed a roll and scooped in the meat, grabbed a bunch of kitchen roll with which to hold it and handed it over. My eyes probably did a cartoon bulge at the sight of it. It was massive. The lady then asked me if I wanted any sauce (which the Rib Man makes himself). I went for some BBQ and of course some of the hot stuff. Apparently there is a second hot sauce you can have but it's so hot you have to ask for it specially. I believe it goes by the name of Holy F**k. So I figured the mainstream stuff would be enough for me.

It wasn't all that busy in that area so I found a seat and began to tuck in. 

This is the view halfway through - I'm attempting to show
how juicy the meat is without sauce

I've got to say, it was pretty special. The roll was hefty, and soft - it was the perfect roll in which to encase some shredded meat. He had also packed it so full, he had managed to attain the perfect B to M ratio (see above). At last! This almost excited me more than the taste. I had quite a bit of sauce on the meat, which I tried, sort of unsuccessfully to spread evenly across all the meat, but to be honest, the meat is so juicy, sauce isn't essential. But it tastes good so whack some of that on too. The BBQ sauce is sweet and smoky, the hot sauce is bloody hot. It seriously made my mouth, tongue and I think even teeth tingle. 

I would say I couldn't get enough of this sandwich but it is so huge, that would just be a blatant lie. At about three quarters of the way through I thought a decent person would probably stop, but I'm not a decent person - I'm a glutton so I ploughed on to the end!  Just wonderful.

Street Kitchen, 7th December

I had an early interview – well early for me – which conveniently finished around lunchtime. Why not go and get some chow from Street Kitchen in Liverpool Street on my way home? Why not indeed.

It was a bitingly cold day, especially as I was in my interview finery ie, a suit jacket as opposed to a warm wintery coat. I followed the circumference around Broadgate Circle and saw the familiar silver van from all those Food Network advert shorts (anyone seen those?). I had told Stephen I was likely to go over there for some scran the day before and he warned me that Jun was unlikely to be there. I said I knew but secretly hoped he might.

And he was! He was there, waiting around for people to come up to the hatch. And he served me! Yay! I love Jun - we've seen him at Taste of Christmas and another foodie event and he always seems so nice. Of course, I didn't chat to him or anything but it was nice that he was there.

They always have a few choices - I was quite tempted by the sticky pork or hot smoked salmon but in the end went for the winter broth with celeriac, cabbage and braised meat (I think it was beef) and a warm brioche roll. Mmmm, it was the perfect choice for a cold winter's day. It was also under a fiver whereas the other options were £7.50. 

See - large chunks of meat

The veggies were just the way I like them - cooked but still with a bit of crunch. And hiding underneath all the vegetation floating on top were some surprisingly large chunks of meat. I took a sip of just the broth at first and was already pleased - it was full of flavour. It reminded me of the chinese vegetable soup I'd had at Yum Bun, mainly in an inverse way (this one had flavour, the other one didn't). As I said, the vegetables were good and the meat was also a little fatty and tender and tasty. As pleasing a winter warmer dish as you could ask for.

Oh - the brioche roll was just meh. And I think the soup was enough really - I didn't even eat the roll at the time but saved it for a snack. As a bread lover, that's saying something.

Homework at The Bethnal Green Working Men's Club, 30th November

My friend Fiona who is a bit of a literary type (it helps, when you're in publishing) brought my attention to the fact that Homework was on that night and she was going, did I want to come? And it was the last Homework of the year. I had planned a relaxing night in with Stephen but it seemed a fitting end to my first enjoyable day of unemployment to go out for a drink or two. In a highbrowish kind of way. I am quite partial to a literary night myself, having been to several BookSlams over the last few years, and also one Literary Death Match and I always find them enjoyable. The added bonus of going to this one, of course (besides it being in Bethnal Green; only one tube stop away) was that I'd be killing two birds with one stone. Attending Homework and striking that off the list and seeing what the Bethnal Green Working Men's Club was like. 

Homework is a monthly night that runs from May(ish) until November(ish) every year which is put on by Aisle16. They are, in their own words 'a looser collective of writers sharing ideas and collaborating on projects as and when'. Although I guess 'as and when' has to coincide roughly with their commitments to Homework. Each Homework has a theme, and this month's theme was Poet in Residence.  The Aisle16 team had to take themselves out of their normal writing habitats and become 'poets in residence' of a different place (building/town/state of mind) of their choosing. 

We had actually seen three of the six poets before, at the aforementioned BookSlams. At first we were a little disappointed by this, although if I had bothered to do my research I would have realised it was inevitable that at least two of them would have been there, considering they are the founders. Last time we'd seen them Joe Dunthorne (author of Submarine) and Ross Sutherland, they had done an ill-concieved 'live poem writing' made up of tweets from the evening on a poem which had been projected onto a wall. 

I'm kinda glad I didn't look though, as it might have put me off - I like to see new people rather than pay to see people we've already experienced and that would have been a shame. Because I absolutely loved this night. The places the poets chose to go and be residence in ranged from a library in Bungay to Occupy LSE to Beachy Head. And the poems they wrote there were enraging, moving and hilarious. I don't think I have enjoyed any other literary night more. Fiona said that normally the subjects were a bit more lighthearted than they were that night but I didn't mind at all. It so happened that the 'heavier' things they touched upon were things I had become interested in myself recently. Well, things probably most of the audience were interested in - CEO pay, council cuts, the closure of libraries and er... suicide. But even addressing these serious issues, all the poets managed to sew in some amusement to the tapestry they were weaving and provide light relief. 

And, somewhat of a surprise, they managed to get a real life poet in residence - the ex-Poet Laureat himself - Andrew Motion to come along and do a reading. It was well worth a fiver.

But I am not only reviewing Homework but also the venue in which it was performed. The Working Men's Club. Do not be fooled into thinking this is just a trendy theme for a bar. There is no mistaking that this either still is, or was until very recently, a real working men's social club. It looks like one from the outside, and it smells like one on the inside. It comes complete with those funny sort of plush velvet-seated chairs, heavy drapes and a little bar in the hall manned by people who looked like they were more used to serving working men than a bunch of middle class people 'slumming it' to watch poetry and sip wine.

Given the milieu I wasn't sure if I trusted the quality of the wine and stuck to cider. Stephen was drinking blackcurrant and sodas. The round together cost me a fiver. That didn't seem so bad until I got a sight of the drinks list and saw that my cider was only £3.50. £1.50 for a blackcurrant and soda is a bit steep. 

The Working Men's Club plays host to many a different sort of night - karaoke, burlesque, electropop club nights, gay nights. I'd like to go back and see what it's like on a night when it really lets its hair down.