![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stumbling through
Oct. 11th, 2015 09:07 pmI had a good conversation with my mother in law, and I feel better about things. It ended with both of us apologizing to one another. A lot. I suspect this has been good for our relationship.
As for the rest of life, I have been in London most of the week. The city that makes you bleed money and then you have a hangover as you go home because you realize how much you spent and you think, "how did that happen?" But setting that aside, it was a grand time with my cousin Angela, and my friend K. (who brought along a friend.) I even had the pleasure of finally meeting up with a couple of people I have known online for sometime. I didn't see everyone I wanted to see while in London (which always makes me feel a bit bad, but there is always next time.) but I saw loads and ate loads.
LOADS.
Tuesday I came into the city and met my cousin who was coming in from France. We stayed in Hackney, as I found a nice little flat via airbnb, that was right by a number of transport links. (overground, and bus stops about a block away, and the tube station was about a ten minute walk. Perfect) We decided to go for a walk into the center of the city and we walked and walked and my feet took a beating because it was slightly wet out and I had on my beloved leopard print ballet flats, and they got slightly wet and created some vicious friction and gave me exquisite blisters. But whatever. We had plans to go to one place for drinks but they were closed for a private function and instead we found ourselves at Mele e pere because they had tables, and we liked the look of the menu. They are all about home-made vermouth, and italian food. HELL YES says a couple of Italian girls.
We tore through bread, some porcini and polenta (which was so creamy it made me angry. In a good way.) and this squash and onion blossoms with truffled goat cheese, which was everything you could possibly want. That little dish was pure heaven. For a main dish my cousin had pasta and truffles (truffles turned into a theme for her on this trip.) and I had this black ink orecchiette, palourde clams, courgettes and chilli. It was warm and toasty and so full of flavor. I am not one for negronis for the most part because I am not fond of gin. You can hear the British people hiss in horror. Whatever bitches, I could drink most of you under the table. I can drink moonshine, gin is baby's milk. Anyhow, they had a variation which I dug. It was a sbagliato which had prosecco, vermouth, and bitters which made me think of christmas and oranges. It was heavy on the aromatics which I liked. I could have had a few of those.
I hobbled my way home full of food. (with a stop at Boots for socks.) and then I passed out.
The next morning after tea, we poked around spitafields, (ate pastries at Ottolenghi) and went to Sir John Soane's Museum (which I found by accident) and had a fantastic wander through an unusual house that was gifted to the nation because his son was a disappointment. It is free, and you have to check your things, and you can't have your phone, or take photos which offers that pleasure of being completely in the moment of this stunning home. There are a million details that this architect created for his home, and he was a collector of things. All kinds of things. You enter the library and you can admire the books (he had soooooooo many.) and the pictures, and the furniture. Up near the ceiling you can see the directions North, South, East, and West. (which you find in every room.) Then you go through the dressing room and study (and everyone would want this little study/alcove which had a desk and a fireplace and little cupboards.) and then end up in the picture room. It is a small but high-ceiling roomed of genius. There was a guide there to open up these swinging barn doors, which make a small room four times as big with so many pictures. Some he collected, some watercolors that were of his designs, and many other things. You can even look out upon this other monk's parlor. Soane was such a riot that he created a satirical room (making fun of that whole gothic trend) that he would take guests to. There are all kinds of things he collected like a sarcophagus of an egyptian king, roman ruins, paintings by Turner and Hogarth, and he also had a shrine to Shakespeare (as we all do in our home...?) Then you go upstairs and you can see this vividly yellow room (a yellow patented by Turner)that was used for entertaining. You can spend loads of time just poking about and taking it all in. Apparently you can go to evening visits where everything is lit by candles to add to the atmosphere. It is a wonderful time capsule.
We poked around a few book shops, bought a pair of shoes that wouldn't cripple me (an interesting moment -as we were in Stamford Hill, we were right behind a large family group of orthodox family women at M&S, and the Mother in law in charge used the word schlep about 10 times in five minutes. It was like a piece of theatre because a teenage girl was weeping because she wasn't going to be allowed to go somewhere, and there was obvious tension between a daughter in law and mother in law.) and then we had introverted time before meeting up with an old LJ person for drinks at Rules. I think I have fallen in love with that place. The most expert service, good strong drinks, and and a generally amusing atmosphere. I had a grand time chatting and learning about some weird interactive theater experience. Then having found ourselves toasted we decided to go and watch that Michael Fassbender version of Macbeth. We had ice cream for dinner. No Fassbender penis, but a good dark adaptation. Their approach was to highlight Macbeth's PTSD as the guiding force of his actions. An interesting idea. Lots of good actors, violent and bloody, and beautiful shots of rural Scotland. What fun!
Next post: art! More friends! Disappointment at Dishoom, and oh yeah Hamlet.
As for the rest of life, I have been in London most of the week. The city that makes you bleed money and then you have a hangover as you go home because you realize how much you spent and you think, "how did that happen?" But setting that aside, it was a grand time with my cousin Angela, and my friend K. (who brought along a friend.) I even had the pleasure of finally meeting up with a couple of people I have known online for sometime. I didn't see everyone I wanted to see while in London (which always makes me feel a bit bad, but there is always next time.) but I saw loads and ate loads.
LOADS.
Tuesday I came into the city and met my cousin who was coming in from France. We stayed in Hackney, as I found a nice little flat via airbnb, that was right by a number of transport links. (overground, and bus stops about a block away, and the tube station was about a ten minute walk. Perfect) We decided to go for a walk into the center of the city and we walked and walked and my feet took a beating because it was slightly wet out and I had on my beloved leopard print ballet flats, and they got slightly wet and created some vicious friction and gave me exquisite blisters. But whatever. We had plans to go to one place for drinks but they were closed for a private function and instead we found ourselves at Mele e pere because they had tables, and we liked the look of the menu. They are all about home-made vermouth, and italian food. HELL YES says a couple of Italian girls.
We tore through bread, some porcini and polenta (which was so creamy it made me angry. In a good way.) and this squash and onion blossoms with truffled goat cheese, which was everything you could possibly want. That little dish was pure heaven. For a main dish my cousin had pasta and truffles (truffles turned into a theme for her on this trip.) and I had this black ink orecchiette, palourde clams, courgettes and chilli. It was warm and toasty and so full of flavor. I am not one for negronis for the most part because I am not fond of gin. You can hear the British people hiss in horror. Whatever bitches, I could drink most of you under the table. I can drink moonshine, gin is baby's milk. Anyhow, they had a variation which I dug. It was a sbagliato which had prosecco, vermouth, and bitters which made me think of christmas and oranges. It was heavy on the aromatics which I liked. I could have had a few of those.
I hobbled my way home full of food. (with a stop at Boots for socks.) and then I passed out.
The next morning after tea, we poked around spitafields, (ate pastries at Ottolenghi) and went to Sir John Soane's Museum (which I found by accident) and had a fantastic wander through an unusual house that was gifted to the nation because his son was a disappointment. It is free, and you have to check your things, and you can't have your phone, or take photos which offers that pleasure of being completely in the moment of this stunning home. There are a million details that this architect created for his home, and he was a collector of things. All kinds of things. You enter the library and you can admire the books (he had soooooooo many.) and the pictures, and the furniture. Up near the ceiling you can see the directions North, South, East, and West. (which you find in every room.) Then you go through the dressing room and study (and everyone would want this little study/alcove which had a desk and a fireplace and little cupboards.) and then end up in the picture room. It is a small but high-ceiling roomed of genius. There was a guide there to open up these swinging barn doors, which make a small room four times as big with so many pictures. Some he collected, some watercolors that were of his designs, and many other things. You can even look out upon this other monk's parlor. Soane was such a riot that he created a satirical room (making fun of that whole gothic trend) that he would take guests to. There are all kinds of things he collected like a sarcophagus of an egyptian king, roman ruins, paintings by Turner and Hogarth, and he also had a shrine to Shakespeare (as we all do in our home...?) Then you go upstairs and you can see this vividly yellow room (a yellow patented by Turner)that was used for entertaining. You can spend loads of time just poking about and taking it all in. Apparently you can go to evening visits where everything is lit by candles to add to the atmosphere. It is a wonderful time capsule.
We poked around a few book shops, bought a pair of shoes that wouldn't cripple me (an interesting moment -as we were in Stamford Hill, we were right behind a large family group of orthodox family women at M&S, and the Mother in law in charge used the word schlep about 10 times in five minutes. It was like a piece of theatre because a teenage girl was weeping because she wasn't going to be allowed to go somewhere, and there was obvious tension between a daughter in law and mother in law.) and then we had introverted time before meeting up with an old LJ person for drinks at Rules. I think I have fallen in love with that place. The most expert service, good strong drinks, and and a generally amusing atmosphere. I had a grand time chatting and learning about some weird interactive theater experience. Then having found ourselves toasted we decided to go and watch that Michael Fassbender version of Macbeth. We had ice cream for dinner. No Fassbender penis, but a good dark adaptation. Their approach was to highlight Macbeth's PTSD as the guiding force of his actions. An interesting idea. Lots of good actors, violent and bloody, and beautiful shots of rural Scotland. What fun!
Next post: art! More friends! Disappointment at Dishoom, and oh yeah Hamlet.
