Event Alert: ZOOFEST 29th June

Posted in Adventures by ameliaflorencesimmons

I don’t usually do pre-event write ups, but I’m making an exception for what’s going to be an absolutely fantastic day this Saturday.

My friend Flo, being the insanely talented & hugely creative young whippersnapper that she is, is putting on a festival this weekend in Surrey. It’s to launch her brand new company, The Human Zoo Theatre Company, which if she’s anything to go by, will be a hotbed of new talent…

So if you’re Surrey-based and not going to Glasto this weekend, why not come along and support the arts while also having an amazing time? There ain’t no party like a Surrey party.

That’s an overview of what’ll be going down in a Surrey field on Saturday, but the team are constantly announcing new acts and fun things over on their Facebook page and also on Twitter.

I’ve just heard that tickets are flying out of the window, so you need to be QUICK and book your tickets now! Bring your friends, bring your whole family, bring your onesie that looks like a pig, but ultimately COME ALONG!

16Jun2013

Sunday in the Garden with Plants

Posted in Country by ameliaflorencesimmons

To top off my Sussex-y weekend (read part one here), I spent the morning in the greenhouse re-potting my seedlings. This is the stage where you wonder why on earth you’re reading my blog, and why someone under the age of 50 is willingly spending weekends wrist deep in soil.

Bear with me, though. Really, it’s about balance. The past two months of working in London have brought with them many late nights, stupid cocktails, hectic weekends. I love going out, but I try to be sensible. The last thing I want to do is to burn myself out and have it impact at all on my job.

So the past two weekends have been entirely home centric, and it’s done me a lot of good. If you don’t garden or grow things (snigger), you really should start. I probably sound like an utter lameo, but there’s something undeniably awesome about seeing a tiny seed turn into a whole plant! Perching in a warm greenhouse with rain lashing the windows was a wonderful way to spend a Sunday morning.

I tend to be drawn to growing herbs, fruit, veg and wildflowers. Mainly fruit and veg, because HELLO, food! Also, check my old lady jacket:

Spending a morning potting up my tiny seedlings which I’ve grown from scratch was hugely pleasing – I re potted calendula, dill and rocket, and planted a strawberry plant.

As ever, the most difficult part was getting my wellies off…

Success!

15Jun2013

Weekends in the Country: Bateman’s

Posted in Adventures by ameliaflorencesimmons

I’ve never appreciated living in Sussex quite as much as I am right now. Of course, during the week, it means I spend what feels like half my day on the train, but at the weekends…well, I’m more than grateful. We’re surrounded by endless fields that come alive in May with lush verdancy, complete with grazing cows and the odd chicken (sometimes the VERY odd chicken…) And of course, we’re in a National Trust hotspot, bordering with Kent. And so, Mama Simmons and I took off in the car for a country road trip.

Sloping along the winding path through banks of wild flowers at Bateman’s, I stopped for a minute to feel the sun beating on my shoulders, and to breathe in the scent of a nearby azealia. I suddenly felt a million miles away from the dawdling, sweaty, claggy train journeys that bookmark my weekdays now. For those of you who haven’t been card carrying members of the National Trust since you were born (like me…), Bateman’s is Rudyard Kipling’s house, and boasts rolling lawns, overgrown meadows, a working mill, and the occasional friendly chicken.

At this time of the year, the wisteria was in fine fettle, there was green as far as the eye could see, and lazy bees drifted through rustling trees.

Ain’t nobody here but us chickens. (and duck).

Of course, a true middle-aged Saturday wouldn’t be complete without a visit to a garden centre. I got a bit overexcited. I’m going to be spending my Sunday morning planting up round carrots (wut!), purple cauliflower, strawberries and pineapple mint. PINEAPPLE MINT!

Bottom line: the National Trust is ace. Find your nearest properties here , but I’d strongly recommend getting a membership card – a young persons card is £26 a year, and you really only need to visit three properties and it pays for itself!

13Jun2013

Take a Different Route Home

Posted in Girl About Town, London by ameliaflorencesimmons

When I was a fresh-faced yoof undertaking my first proper daily commute to London, I was determined to stay wide eyed and interested in the world around me. I didn’t want to become a typical commuter, slumped in my seat on the train, head down as I tramped the city streets, never looking up.

That was 7 weeks ago.

Even in that short time, I find myself getting into bad habits. I doze on the train where initially I read ‘improving’ books. My healthy juices have been swapped for cloying lattes. I tut and sigh at anyone who gets in my way or irritates me, whereas my attitude used to be ‘at least I’ll never see that commuter again, look on the bright side’.

In an attempt to remedy my morning and evening ennui, I decided to go from a different station (Victoria instead of Charing) and ended up on a glorious walk that sliced me through Piccadilly, Mayfair and St James’s park. I enjoyed it hugely. Give it a shot, take a diversion, find something different.

10Jun2013

Theatre review: Blind Date @ The Charing Cross Theatre

Posted in Culture, London by ameliaflorencesimmons

Going on the title and the poster alone, I wasn’t sold. Going on blind dates is insane enough, let alone watching a show about them, surely? But when a chum kindly invited me along, I did a bit of reading round, and was intrigued. Blind Date is a show conceived by comedian/actress Rebecca Northan, which revolves around the structure of a blind date played out in front of a voracious audience. The difference? The blind date is plucked from the audience, minutes before the show starts.

Improv is a sticky game, to mix my metaphors. By its very nature, it can’t be predicted, nailed down, or neatly defined. At uni, I came across the work of a theatre group called Improbable, who frequently improvised sections of their shows around the life stories of audience members. That was one thing, but this show was going to rely hugely on the charm and watchability of the poor chap chosen to be the male lead for the night.

So let’s backtrack a minute. As the lights come up on the stage, we meet Mimi (Northan) for the first time, as she sips nervously at her red wine, waiting for a date who never turns up. It’s a drizzly Wednesday evening with a typical London crowd, and we’re watching a woman with a ‘joke’ red nose perched ludicrously on her face. No one is sure what to expect, but what we do know is that we’re going to make her work hard for this.

Thing is, you fall for Mimi almost straight away. Northan’s been touring this show for years, and you can tell. It’s a masterclass in improv and how to handle a rather nervous member of the audience who is desperate to impress the 200 people watching him…And that was where the problem came. Northan was perfect, delightful, and hilarious. Her date, plucked from the cosy embrace of the plush velvet seats, was not. In fact, he was downright irritating, slightly drunk, very sweary, and occasionally offensive. His date, in the audience, was also very much ‘over-refreshed’ and vocal….

It was a unique experience, hugely entertaining, quite wince-inducing at times, and all in all was quite like a real first date! Northan is a tremendous talent and it’s worth seeing it just for her. The concept is a thrilling one, and the ‘anything could happen’ atmosphere is electrifying. Go, see, be entertained, be horrified, be charmed. Blind Date runs at the Charing Cross Theatre until the 29th June.

24May2013

When Mac Met Cheese at The Endurance

Posted in Food, Girl About Town by ameliaflorencesimmons

Hello! A massive lack of posts lately, but let’s go straight back in with a food review. Since working in Soho, I find myself making quite a lot of ‘what to eat in Soho for lunch’ inquiries into Google. The problem is, there’s almost too much choice, and I’m attempting to avoid chains and explore somewhere different most days. I’m planning on writing posts based around my lunchtime escapades, in the hope that it might help out someone else similarly stuck for where to eat! Anyway, mission statement dispensed with, let’s go to the food:

When Mac Met Cheese: The Concept

Virtually underneath our office is a rather glum pub aptly named The Endurance. It’s nearly empty and appears to play host to a variety of pop-up ventures, including When Mac Met Cheese. When I saw the posters, I nearly passed out with excitement. Mac and cheese is one of the most truly perfect foods in existence, and a dining experience solely devoted to it sounded wonderful. I’m a big fan of the new wave of restaurants offering just one choice of food in a couple of incarnations (Honest Burgers, Burger & Lobster, Bubbledogs). I read up on previous reviews of WMMC as a food stand, and set my hopes to: ludicrously high.

The Food

Three options for the pasta, optional extras (bacon lardons, chicken, rocket, tomato, broccoli); a side of coleslaw; deep fried Oreos. Absolute simplicity, which made me think that the food was duty bound to be excellent. I mean, if you’re only serving one thing, you’ve got to do it right, haven’t you? I opted for one option with a ghastly name: the ‘cheesy green afro’. Because, you know, who DOESN’T love thinking about a hairstyle with a hygiene problem while eating? Anyway, with stilton, mozzarella and broccoli, it ticked quite a few boxes.

On first mouthful, I was happy. Rich, extremely cheesy and supremely comforting, this was like the Richard Madeley of foodstuffs. It came to us in cardboard boxes, and let’s just say that mac and cheese is never going to win any beauty contests, so visually it wasn’t much. I started flagging at around the halfway point. It was lukewarm on arrival and cooling rapidly, and each mouthful tasted exactly the same. My companions struggled – this, from one of the boys: ‘I think I’m going to go to Leon after this to get a wrap’.

The primary issue for me was how I felt afterwards. A truly great eating experience leaves you full but happy. I’m not just referring to restaurants – just down the road from The Endurance are Freebird Burritos and Jerusalem Felafels, both of which leave me full and happy, whereas WMMC left me feeling like more sluggish than a slug that had just taken part in a marathon slug battle and had also found out its’ slug wife had left it. That’s how sluggish I felt. The general table consensus was indeed: ‘I feel full. Not the good kind of full’.

The Atmosphere

Curious. We were served by a waitress AND someone who appeared to be from The Endurance itself. Things rapidly descended into a Fawlty Towers-esque situation with one waitress coming from the right, another from the left, asking us the same questions. The person serving us from The Endurance came across as slightly brisk, telling us she had ‘nothing to do with the pop up’, she was ‘just helping out’. Taking orders was a bit of a faff: ‘they get it all mixed up in the kitchen’. Mm.

I’m going to touch on decor here too, for a minute. A stripped out ghost pub; tables clung to the walls like kids at their first school disco. Stuffed animal heads on the walls and wallpaper that reminded you of those strange country hotels where you feel slightly uneasy but can’t really put your finger on it. And dark, it was so dark. Dimness doesn’t equal atmosphere, lighting concept designers.

Overall

Some street foods translate perfectly from pavement to plate. After all, you never expect street food to be that hot or that pretty but it still kicks ass (kinda like Mickey Rourke). But when you’re served that same lukewarm, messy dish with plastic cutlery in an actual restaurant, it’s a different matter. Come on, would it kill you to give us some proper cutlery? Even wooden cutlery would do. Anything. A rough hewn tool from wire and rocks. Just not plastic.

For me, this entire experience demonstrated the sticky problems with pop ups. What exactly constitutes a pop up? What service do we expect? Should the food come in takeaway boxes or should it be properly plated up? To give it the benefit of the doubt, I think I’d have been a lot happier with this if I’d been eating it while wandering around Camden Market, which is where it usually stands. But as it is, I’m confused, I’m underwhelmed, and I still feel full. And not the good kind of full.