How to get lost in the city

Tuesday, 21 January, 2020

I had a plan for Tuesday. I had a doctor appointment and then  five hours to spare.  I wanted to go to one of the restaurants on my list – I thought perhaps Gloria, which is supposed to be a flamboyant Italian place, and from there on to Brick Lane to take some photos of new street art followed by picking up food for dinner – Krish’s favourite things. It didn’t go quite as expected.

After the doctor I jumped on the first bus that came along and then jumped off to get one that would take me where I needed to go. I chose the wrong second bus. One of these days I’ll get it right but I chose the one that turns off the main road and travels on other roads. All wasn’t lost. I jumped on a third bus and then off again when I thought I was close to where I needed to go.

No clue where I was. These buildings are anonymous and hide the landmarks
No clue where I was. These new buildings are anonymous and hide the landmarks

Except I had no idea where I was. Heading down a side street to rescue my mission, nothing looked familiar. After a couple of turns, and no idea which direction I was travelling in – there have been times in London where I actually ended up back where I started, just one wrong turn. Never mind, Google would help me out.

Hey Google, I’m lost.
Uh oh. May I give you directions.
Where is Shoreditch High Street.
Turn left onto X street.
Google, there’s no X street, only Y street.
I’m sorry, I can’t help with that.

I decided I’d overshot Gloria so would head to Rosa’s Thai. I read their Instagram faithfully. It looked good and I’d never been.

Hey Google, direct me to Rosa’s Thai Cafe.
Beginning directions to Rosey Cafe.
No, Google – (more carefully) Rosa’s Thai Cafe
Turn left onto A Street
Google, A Street isn’t here. I see B Street.
I’m sorry, I can’t help with that.

Ugh.

Oh just shut up, Google.

I resorted to old style ‘I’m lost,’ I told an older lady about to cross the street. ‘OK, where would you like to go?’ ‘Shoreditch High Street.’ ‘I don’t know…’ ‘Oh, OK, thank you.’ ‘But if you walk down there I think there’s a main road.’

I went ‘down there’ and thank goodness, Shoreditch High Street – only two short blocks away. How did she not know? I turned down Folgate Street, shocked at how much had been done since my Christmas visit, then across Commercial Street to find Rosa’s.

The top of Hanbury Street
The top of Hanbury Street
Inside Rosa's
Inside Rosa’s

It wasn’t too packed and I got a seat easily. The menu didn’t grab me and I’m not a fan of red or green Thai curry but I was hungry and tired so I thought I’d try their pad thai. It was something I knew so could measure it against the others. Quite honestly, I didn’t like it. The noodles were too soft, the chicken had a stewed texture, and the flavour was very sweet. I remembered on Nadiya’s show how she’d been shocked at the sweetness of Thai food. So perhaps it’s ‘authentic.’ And no chopsticks! Only a fork and spoon. I managed the noodles, left a lot of the chicken and I was done.

My very sweet Pad Thai
My very sweet Pad Thai

Rosa's kitchen
Rosa’s kitchen

Continue reading “How to get lost in the city”

I love to make things – messy or not, here I come!

Sunday, 29 December, 2019

Quite honestly, I’m not very good at making things. This would make my friends and everyone who sees my ‘things’ laugh really. They’d tell me I’m creative and talented. I can see how that happens.

I would say, though, that I have five thumbs on each hand, or that somehow the messages from my brain don’t get all the way down to my fingers when I create. In my head is a beautiful image, which by the time it gets down to my hands becomes a muddled mess. But then I’m messy – let’s get that out in the open right now.

What I can do is make use of my mistakes. Take my dolls – the end result is good, sometimes great, because I cover up the mistakes with lace, ribbon, bits of fabric… and I smile a lot and don’t let a mistake interrupt or stop me.

And so messy becomes ‘me,’ ‘my style.’ I think or hope that people see that the end result reflects me. And yet…

I was recently interviewed by a woman who is writing a book. As far as I can tell, she is taking photos of older people and writing about them. We talked for about an hour, I told her all manner of things about me, holding very little back and at the end, it was the dolls – something I mentioned only briefly at first – that caught her attention, even though I suggested she photograph me in front of some Hackney Stik art. And so in January I’ll be taking all of my dolls to a studio where she’ll artfully display them and take my photo with the whole lot. I hate having my photo taken so we’ll see what comes of it. At any rate, her eyes lit up when she saw the colours and personalities I’d created – forget the travels, forget the search for street art and local culture, forget the foodie obsessions – this, apparently, was it!

In November I took a course on how to make rye bread. Somewhere in Dalston, down a less-travelled alley, is the Dusty Knuckle Bakery. I went one evening to their classroom, which is across the yard from the bakery/cafe, in a container. The instructor was Tomek, a somewhat serious man, who knew a lot about bread.

Tomek with Marta
Tomek with Marta

There were only three of us! A woman, her daughter, and me. This was perfect. We could each do our own thing, and the mood was unhurried and personal. Rye bread, it seems, is the simplest bread to make. We were learning the slow method, which uses a sour dough starter instead of commercial yeast. The starter at the Dusty Knuckle is called Marta. She sits in a large plastic container with a cracked lid, growing and being used to start hundreds of rye loaves. Bits of her have been shared around the students and bakers, and now a bit of her is in my fridge, waiting to be woken up when I need another loaf.

Yeast, Tomek, explained is natural and it’s everywhere. If we had special ‘yeast glasses,’ we would see yeast covering everything and it might be horrifying. So Marta picks up that natural yeast and. when fed, grows. My Marta is different than anyone else’s because it’s picked up the yeast in my environment, including from my body. If I gave some to you, it would change again. Yeast is pretty special.

We created one loaf of sour dough rye bread, one loaf of quick (soda) bread, and some thin rye crackers that use buttermilk and honey. All in three hours. I am not used to weighing on a scale or with grams, British-style, and that may be the reason that, after the sour dough loaves had risen (proved) to be ready for baking, mine was smaller than the others. I was a bit devastated. Why mine? Of course mine! Messy me strikes again. Out of the hot oven, mine was still the smallest. At home? Tasted delicious! Job done.

The dreaded scales and grams
The dreaded scales and grams
Finished dough into the tin to prove
Finished dough into the tin to prove

The classroom
The classroom
Rye soda bread
Rye soda bread
My sour dough rye at home
My sour dough rye at home

How do you make rye bread, you ask? Well, you take some starter, add rye flour, salt, and water, mix just till the flour disappears, plop the whole lot into an oiled loaf tin and you’re done! Seriously, good bread is made with flour, water and salt – that’s it. (Even the starter is made with just flour and water and allowed to ferment.)

In December I went to a Christmas wreath making workshop. I’d done the same workshop the year before and, despite how many hours it took I loved it. So I was back. It was at the Geffrye Museum – recently controversially renamed to the Museum of the Home! While the museum is being renovated and enlarged, workshops, front garden events, and almshouse visits are continuing.

Walking up to the workshop at the Museum of the Home
Walking up to the workshop at the Museum of the Home – see all the greenery waiting outside?

This year there was less greenery than before so my idea to make a wreath with some bare twigs, trailing eucalyptus and flowering branches and such, evaporated. However, I had lovely tablemates this year, Heather was her usual helpful, competent, and friendly self, there were chocolate bicuits, tea, and mince pies, and I happily – and more calmly than last year – got to it.

To create the trailing effect that I’d seen on Instagram, I chose some lighter pine in with the sturdy spruce. The messy result ensued and people must love mess based on the number who came by the table and remarked on how they were soooo going to copy my ideas. Another job done.

My finished wreath
My finished wreath

To create a wreath, you start with a wire frame and pack it tightly with live moss, which you firmly wire to create the round shape. Then you staple a plastic backing to protect your door. You take your greenery and push it firmly into the moss to create the wreath, and then add finishing touches – ornaments, ribbons, spices… Mine this year was made with spruce, pine, pine cones, artificial red berries and a subtle white and gold bow. It’s bigger than I’d planned – second time that’s been the case – but it looks good on the living room door. Continue reading “I love to make things – messy or not, here I come!”

The Wet City at Christmas

Thursday, 12 December, 2019

Travelling into The City after my Somerset House exhibition had been an afterthought when the rain hijacked my other plans.

An everyday miracle happened when I reached my stop. I walked the correct way towards Leadenhall Market. I have a notoriously bad sense of direction and confusion and retracing is a big part of my explorations. When I’m alone I am mildly frustrated, when with others the confusion can become too large and panic-inducing. Today I nailed it, although at the very last minute I wondered if I’d overstepped Leadenhall. No, it was there!

Was it the rain, my mood, the cold or the reality of election day that dimmed the colour and atmosphere of the market? I’m not sure. The year before people had thronged the arcade, music was playing, the tree was magnificent and it felt like Old London had come alive. Although my photos show it quite well, I thought it oppressive, gloomy and I left quite soon after arriving.

Leadenhall Market, subdued
Leadenhall Market, subdued


I still had a lot of time left before I had to meet Susanne. I decided that I’ll head to Spitalfields Market to see what Christmas looked like there.

The cheeriest sight so far - snack wagon by Spitalfields Market
The cheeriest sight so far – snack wagon by Spitalfields Market
A quite lovely sight - but where are all the people?
A quite lovely sight – but where are all the people?
There was a small crowd inside the new market
There was a small crowd inside the new market
The new market's lights were Torino-esque
The new market’s lights were Torino-esque
A few selfie lovers preceded me
A few selfie lovers preceded me
Looking out from the market - no crowd to be seen
Looking out from the market – no crowd to be seen
Outside - shiny and WET
Outside – shiny and WET

I think I enjoyed things as much as I could in my cold and dampened state. It was good to be here and I tried to still the voice in my head that was telling me to head Susanne off and just go home.  One foot in front of the other is always the other little voice in my head.

A year or two ago – when? – Carolyn and I went to the Dennis Severs candlelight at Christmas night. I loved it. I’d considered going again but decided against it. However, I did want to have a quick look at the door. It’s always on my must-see list when I’m showing people around. So I took a look, moved determinedly on and wended my way across Commercial Street towards Andina on Redchurch Street, where I’d meet Susanne.

A little detour - Dennis Severs House on Norton Folgate
A little detour – Dennis Severs House on Norton Folgate
Off Commercial Street, a taste of urban art. I must head back on a better day
Off Commercial Street, a taste of urban art. I must head back on a better day

Under the railway arch at Shoreditch High Street Station
Under the railway arch at Shoreditch High Street Station – what is it that stirs me about these scenes?


East end Triptych
East end Triptych

Bless Susanne for being there already when I arrived early. The restaurant was warm and dry and noisy. The food was good, not extraordinary, the drink was delicious. Chatting was just what I needed. We lingered and then we walked to a nearby hotel where more chat and a welcome pot of tea awaited.

This might not be Andina!
This might not be Andina!
And this dessert was Christmassy
And this dessert was Christmassy

 

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Christmas Eve – Monday, 24 December, 2018

Even a found Christmas can be dull and gloomy and it was like that when I headed out to Brick Lane on the Saturday before Christmas – Christmas Eve Eve! I visited the hairdresser and trusted my head to her. I came away wondering just what she’d changed – there was very little hair on the floor and more time spent on diffusing and perfecting my curls than cutting – but the back did look better, I’d had a good time, and I wasn’t upset. That’s a major achievement.

I stopped at Ambala for some samosas and grabbed a chicken tikka roll for some lunch. But the view from Whitechapel was dismal.

The East London mosque
The East London mosque
The gloaming!
The gloaming!

My friend, Judy, sent me a message when I got on the bus and we switched to talking for real (yes!). The whole of Cambridge Heath Road and Mare Street was the same dismal grey as Whitechapel Road had been. And then we passed Mare Street Market and the lights caught my eye. I had to get out to look more closely.

Inside was a real Christmas grotto. I wandered around and enjoyed the atmosphere, everyone laughing and everything glistening.


Continue reading “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!”

Dark November Days – digging out from the doldrums?

Friday 30 November, 2018

Doldrums for the weather and for my blog. Hopefully, the photos will tell the story of what’s been happening during this mostly dreary month. With any luck my ennui won’t show!

Taken early in November. The bark is going and the leaves getting sparse
Taken early in November from my window. The bark is going and the leaves getting sparse
Street art in the back streets of Dalston - ethereal, magical
Street art in the back streets of Dalston – ethereal, magical
A catfish noodle salad box at Bánh Mì Hội-An, Hackney Central
A catfish noodle salad box at Bánh Mì Hội-An, Hackney Central – Passable, cheap, not really a salad!

Behind the counter at Bánh Mì Hội-An, Hackney Central
Behind the counter at Bánh Mì Hội-An, Hackney Central

Continue reading “Dark November Days – digging out from the doldrums?”