August 9, 2009
· Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged Anatolia, budget eats, Hackney restaurants, lahmacun, London Fields, Mangal, Mare Street, ocakbasi, turkish food
Kebabs this good are an art form. Don't disturb me.
We all know that fabulous Turkish food is one of Hackney’s most delectable and credit-crunch busting (watch that journalese fly…I’ll be talking about ’staycations’ next) cuisines.
But having frequented the magnificent Anatolia on Mare Street since I first arrived in the neighbourhood, I thought it was time to pay homage to the consistency of my favourite kebab shop.
Succulent chicken shish, juicy lamb ribs hot from the aromatic ocakbasi. Delicious garlicky, meaty, herby, hot and crusty-but-soft lahmacun , or Turkish pizza for the uninitiated, straight form the oven and that amazing aubergine/yoghurt/bready delight that I forget the name of. IT IS ALWAYS GOOD. They never have an off night. Even the frog, a man of refined taste, is a huge fan of ‘the Ottoman restaurant’.
(Also – it’s healthy, isn’t it? Chicken shish is basically grilled chicken with rice and salad. Clearly the people on this idiotic forum don’t know the first thing about nutrition..)
Service can be a bit changeable. The chaps doing the cooking have that look of ‘I’m not here to chat, but to create many delicious and juicy kebabs, alright?’, but the restaurant staff are friendly.
You could argue, and others have, that there are superior Turkish restaurants in Hackney. Pidd and I are big fans of the deservedly celebrated Mangal on Arcola Street . The relatively classy Cirrik, next to Hackney Central is a bit posher if you want more-restaurant- less-kebab-shop vibe. Testi serve up a mean stew, in addition to lamb’s testicles and Gilbert and George are big fans of Mangal II, though I’ve never been.
Still Anatolia is my fave, it’s delicious, very close, and practically free. Yum. I might get one tonight, actually.
August 4, 2009
· Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged Broadway Market, London Fields
Huzzah. Another drinking establishment has opened in spitting distance of the park. Not that we would want to spit that distance, and actually, it’s not spitting distance. You’d have to be an olympic spitter to spit that far. But close, in any case.
The lovely Off Broadway is all, rough wooden tables and Manhattans and American bar staff. It’s an American cocktail bar, see. Only in London Fields (maybe that’s why it’s Off Broadway, and not Broadway. You know, not the mainstream place were the blue-rinse brigade hang out, but the cool, edgy, yeah, stuff. And yes, I do realise it’s on Broadway Market. But if it were related to street name alone, surely it would be On Broadway? In fact isn’t that the name of the gallery? Argghhh…association overload!)
I’m not sure it works. I quite like the concept (good cocktails, friendly bar staff, perching on bar stools*) but we’re all a bit boozy and silly for it to run smoothly. I like you making that yummy cocktail, I really do. But I want it NOW goddamit. Ahem. My uncultivated fault. Please do carry on.
Still, they do plates of cheese and meat**, and the staff really are rather nice. A bejillion times nicer than the incompetents at the C&M, and I think we’ve talked enough about our opinion of the “bar staff” at the Dove. They need to sort the downstairs bit out, it still feels like a bit of an afterthought. But excellent work on the terrasse and the sunshine streaming through windows on old wood, and the bar stools and the vibe. My new favourite bar. And I really like the multi-faceted name.
February 24, 2009
· Filed under Broadway Market, Uncategorized · Tagged Broadway Market, London Fields
The Dove. It’s a funny place, isn’t it. Wooden paneling and an impressive array of beers on tap, as well as a range of eye-wateringly priced fruit beers that are frankly disgusting. I mean, why would anyone think that strawberry beer was a good idea. It’s like snail porridge, or egg and bacon icecream….oh, I see. Slightly less twatish crowd than the Mat and Cutton. Well, just older twats like me probably.
Anyway,I like the Dove. Most of the time. I like it when you manage to get a table on a rainy, cold Saturday afternoon and instead of staying for a half like you’d planned, you find yourself talking about your favourite books surrounded by a lovely hazy fog of booze and friendship. It’s good for dates, with candles and red wine and little tables tucked away in the corner. It’s good for taking french people to, as I discovered on Friday night. They loved the offbeat oldworldpubfusedwiththaiandBritishfood charm and tucked into posh sausage and mash with gusto.
As ever, I do have to have a bit of a moan. I realised just then that I should really bloody love the Dove – it has everything I want in a pub namely decent beer, good food, attractive interior and it’s five minutes away from my house. But I don’t go in that often. And you know why? Because too often the people running the place just don’t seem to like their customers very much. Once I was in there with Laura and Nic and we got told off (and I HATE being told off) for laughing. After half a pint. On Friday, a young foreign trendy was not allowed into the pub, even accompanied by an adult, to tell her friends that she couldn’t get in and would wait for them somewhere else. The bloke, who undoutedly has the right to be as nasty to anyone as he wants because it’s probably his bloody pub, was quite needlessly rude to her.
It’s a shame, because all the other bits and bobs add up to make the Dove another little jewel in LF. A little less aggravation, a little more Jupiler (Belgium’s favourite lager) please.
November 19, 2008
· Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged concrete, London Fields, outdoor, ping pong
One of the very very VERY best things about London Fields park is its marvelous concrete ping pong table.
My friend Henry was the first to introduce me to the joys of the table, and in my first summer at the Grove we spent many an hour pretending to lark about whilst concentrating fiercely, desperate to win. Since then the table has proved an integral part of our Hackney lives.
Pidd has pranced about it in pretty dresses, I’ve been beaten by a crackhead, Henry has perfected his backhand. Michael and Rachel even included it in their early wooing.
Now, there are those (like the Frog) who think that playing outdoors is a travesty. And there are some fairly obvious drawbacks – strong winds, variable light, the inflexible net and the potential interference from regulars at the adjacent crackhead corner.
But I love it. I love the fact when you are playing you feel part of the life of the park. That nearby – especially in summer – you can hear the happy noise of drunken hipsters in the Cat and Mutton and that sometimes people stop to watch and cheer you on.
I like the fact that at peak times, winner stays on, meaning that clashing demographic groups get the chance to say hello to each other in a way that rarely happens the rest of the time. When I’m playing, I like seeing a sudden breeze lift the ball in the air, taking it in an entirely unexpected direction so that your partner has to lunge comically to make the shot.
I like feeling the sunshine on my arms in the summer and in winter I like the give of the mud under the heel of my boot and the way the cold air and slight exertion makes your cheeks turn pink. Wonderful.
April 30, 2008
· Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged Hackney council, handstands, lido, swimming, winter sun
Splish, splash, splosh! Of all the joys of living in London Fields (and we’ve already established there are many) there is nothing to match the sheer unbridled brilliance of living right next to the lido.
Restoring the London Fields Lido is possibly the best thing Hackney council have ever done. It opened in April 1932, closed during the Second World War, re-opening in 1951. It closed again in 1986 and began its current glorious existence on Thursday 26 October 2006. What a triumph.
Unlike my pal Pidd, who has already discussed the joys of the lido, I do not have a season ticket. I’m not that disciplined, and also have problems committing myself to anything longer than about two weeks. But I go at least once a week and am rarely disappointed.
The best time I ever went to the lido was with my house mate Laura. We were on our bikes, all set to go to go to Highbury Pool on a freezing bright day in January. The type of day when the low-hanging sun sharpens every you see and you feel pink and happy after a stomp around a park. We ooh-ed and ahh-ed our way from the lockers to pool, with rapid tiptoes on cold tiles. When I sploshed straight in it was as warm as a bath. The feel of the water on my body and cold bright air on my face was entirely wonderful.
In summer the lido is packed with kids and slow-moving walrus and you are as likely to get a lane to yourself as find a turkey twizler on Broadway Market, but it’s still fun. You can sit dripping and happy eating an ice-cream on the sidelines. You can practice your handstands in the general swimming area. It doesn’t beat having a lane to yourself in winter, but it’s a different type of enjoyment.
Rare to have occasion to say this, but I think the lido warrants it: thank you Hackney council.
April 27, 2008
· Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged Broadway Market, burger, famers market, hipsters
Difficult to talk about London Fields for very long without mentioning Saturday’s farmers market. In a typically contrary way, I prefer Broadway Market sans market. Which isn’t to say that I don’t appreciate having a farmers market on my doorstep. I know I sound like a spoilt brat and I do like parts of it. I really love the aforementioned mushroom sandwiches and the range of cheese sold by Hot French Cheese Guy is v good.
The Broadway Market Traders’ and Residents’ Association have done an amazing job in bringing a bit of community magic to E8 and it’s difficult not to admire a market that champions local people and produce. The people on the market clearly care about what they sell and how they sell it.
Patrick White, a former eastender (the place not the fun-filled tv show) recently wrote about the market in glowing terms though even he sounded a little miffed at paying ten quid for a lump of cheese. You can see his point. Regeneration, kids doing it for themselves, keeping Tesco at bay etc etc.
My gripes with the market are completely personal and more to do with stupid arses like me, than the market itself. I don’t like is being jostled by billions of boys in skinny jeans and pointy boots larking around being wacky. And I definitely don’t like queuing up for about 47 hours to get a beef burger, no matter how delicious and expertly reared it is. Broadway Market is ace around Christmas, pretty good throughout spring, but come summer it’s a mess of overly nonchalant thirty-somethings wielding babies like bazookas and idiotically dressed hipsters.
My other problem with the market is to do with my working-class hero evil twin syndrome. It’s not real. Real markets have fat men shouting about tomatoes, and blokes who’ve sold foam for twenty years hence earning the name “Jim the Foam”. Real market stall folk rely on guile and bloodymindedness throughout the winter months and charm the rest of the time. The stall-holders on Broadway Market sell lovely things for a lot of money. But they don’t have to make an effort. Some are friendly enough but most are too busy throwing organic chard to the seething trendy masses to have a bit of a chat. So the joy of market banter is lost. My dad had it in spades. He could charm the pants of an old dear at twenty paces. She’s have a tartan wheely trolley full of slippers for the whole family before you could say bargain.
Our farmers market is not really a market: it’s a tourist attraction. Somewhere to ponce about, meet your pals and pay four quid for a very posh butty. That’s fine in its own way, but I want markets to have good produce that you can afford. I want them to be the place where you go every week to buy all your fruit and veg. I want fat blokes and old blokes and little old ladies barging people out of the way with their trolleys. I want people to be there to buy food and not just for their lunch. I want the traders to make me laugh. Shopping at food markets would definitely go into my Top Ten Favourite Things Ever – but Broadway Market leaves me cold.
April 20, 2008
· Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged bike, bike repairs, Lock 7
To start my exploration into the character of London Fields’ establishments, where better to begin than its most recent opening (ok, I know this doesn’t really make much sense, but just go with it). Lock 7 is that lovely looking cafe-come-bike-repair shop that has just opened over the canal. It’s a fab addition to the hood, not only because they do lush food like the chocolate brownie above but because it does bike repairs without you having to sell your granny’s jewelry and wait for three months (a la London Fields Cycles).
Lock 7 run by the very lovely Kathryn (pictured above) and Lee, whose previous careers as crime scene investigators (no shit) have left them perfectly equipped to deal with the catering vagaries of the LF masses. They got the idea after falling in love with sogreni bikes in Copenhagen. The idea (when they’ve got a bit of dosh together) is to sell the bikes from the shop. They’ve already got some well cute bashed-up kids bikes for sale, which my preggers friend Tash was eyeing up – a little prematurely perhaps.
Bike repairs in Lock 7 come courtesy of John, aka Naked John aka the Naked Campaigner who is on hand daily from 8-10am. Disappointingly he was fully clothed when he fixed my faithful bike last week, but I’m hoping to catch him at his second ‘job’ sometime soon.
Welcome Lock 7!
