Posts tagged London Fields

Wrongly named, but proper brilliant E5 bakehouse

January 11, 2012 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , , , ,

Christ this is beautiful

There are two things you should know about the E5 Bakehouse under the arches by London Fields station. The first is, it is very distinctly NOT in E5. It IS in the best postcode in the city: E8 ( I asked about this – it’s because founder/owner Ben Mackinnon started the whole project in E5. Erm, I think. I was a bit busy drooling over the bread at the time).

The second is: it’s bloody marvellous. How? Let me count the ways. Most importantly we are talking about seriously good bread here. Crusty fragrant exteriors, soft chewy springy sour dough innards, lashing of seeds, hidden delights – this is bread of the highest order. My current fave is the raisin and walnut  – a joy for making brie, grape and rocket sandwiches for special packed lunches, for example.

Also, it is a superb space. You walk through the cool slidey door and an aircraft-hanger of a bakery opens up before you. The whole place smells of goodness, it’s the type of smell that instantly makes you relax and the light-infused space is genuinely uplifting. There are a few tables inside and you can get coffee etc, but I’m pleased that they don’t bother with cakes or go too far off piste. Bread is far too serious a business for that.

Thirdly, the staff are gloriously hapless. They know and care about bread, but although really friendly they’re a bit ditzy,and all the better for it. Having hot young men decorated in artsy tattoos serving the world’s greatest food stuff also gives no cause for complaint.

If you’ve got a hangover, the simple, and simply brilliant, mustardy cheese and onion toastie is a life-saver and if you haven’t got enough money in your purse for some reason, they’ll usually let you pay it later.

This bakery is what London Fields is, or at least should be, all about. Detractors from Clapham may dismiss it as poncy nonsense, some may baulk at paying £3.70 for a loaf of bread – but what is really going on here is that a bloke, and some some folk who really care about an important thing, have created a great little business – and in doing so have brought a lot of pleasure to some local residents.

Read more about it here and follow them on twitter here.

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Pub on the Park – distinctly less shit

February 5, 2011 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , , , ,

I always found Pub on the Park oddly disappointing. It should be great. It’s probably the best situated park in London (ie – three minutes walk from my house) and definitely has one of the best beergardens. In the summer you can have a cold pint and watch the cricket on the fields, or play boules on the mini pitch at the back.

But the actual pub was average at best, and in winter eminently avoidable. Despite being the closest pub to my house, I visited it rarely – put off by the soulless Weatherspoon vibe, and the scary looking fellas at the bar. Its only saving grace was that it could be relied on if you wanted to watch the footy. A rareity in an area where you are more likely to find buckshot in your pheasant, than a big screen blaring out the commentary in the local pub.

So when the mighty Blues were playing the scumbag Reds a few weeks back, it just about pipped the Perseverance (I pub I enjoy for its unreconstructed policy of fear) as the best place to watch the game.

But what was this? Arty neon signs hanging from the walls? Battered leather couches? Fresh carrot and ginger juice at £4 a pop? London Fields had evidently worked its magic. Apparently the pub has been under not-so-new management for about six months, which old supersleuth here had failed to notice.

And do you know what? It really is a lot better. Admittedly, it’s £3.70 for a premium pint, but the chairs are comfy, the atmosphere has improved and the menu offers more than frozen burger and chips. The bar staff, also, are much less inclined to snarl- a distinct improvement on the last lot. It’s not hipster nor hoodlum, but  – very oddly for a London Fields pub – seems to attract people who care more about their pint than their winkle-pickers.

The best part of all is the upstairs “cosy”, a room done out much like a living room, all mismatched sofas, coffee tables, mirror over the mantlepiece and widescreen tele in the corner. When we were the for the Derby the nice folk even let me and the boys pull one of the sofas from along the walls and right in front of the tele. We all wedged in, turned up the volume, shouted at the screen, chatted to our fellow loungers, got a little fuzzy. It was a lot like watching the match at home – apart from with pints. So obviously better.

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Pizza! Spaghetti! Ciao!

May 3, 2010 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , , , ,


Ok, ok, this isn't an authentic Bella Vita picture. I'm sorry, ok?

So it’s taken me a while, but I’m finally getting round to talking about the new pizza place on Broadway Market.

La Bella Vita has taken up residency in a double front unit that used to be a betting shop if I remember rightly. And it’s really quite good. The boy Savage and I went the other night and a follow up trip for lunch with the Angry Liberal didn’t disappoint.

Thus far I have only tried the pizzas. A Capriosa was good, thin slightly chewy base, fresh generous toppings with a decent amount of anchovies. The house speciality Bella Vita was even better, though I couldn’t help thinking it was a bit like a Il Baccio, from Stoke Newington’s finest pizzeria, but not quite as good.

The puddings are rubbish. Liberal’s cheescake tasted a bit off and a lemon and almond tart was dry and lacking in zing.

And I’m not quite sure how I feel about the atmosphere of the place. It makes me smirk in a nasty ‘oh really, you’re not very cool’ school girl manner that they declare themselves to be part of “the vibrant, artistic community of Broadway Market”. Crackheads over there? They’re talking about you.

The decoration is also not quite right: those cliched “Italian” poster and memorabilia are just a bit naff and inauthentic and the tables are a bit too close together. Oh god, and the music is TERRIBLE. The other day I plonked myself down on one of those perfect poser- watching window seats, only to have the enjoyment of my coffee annihilated by the entirety of Simply Red’s greatest hits. My pizza took on a distinctly melancholic flavour over lunch when the Smiths played throughout. Now, I’m a big fan of the Smiths, but I don’t want to hear my (very close) neighbour warbling along to it while I choke on my chilli oil.

Still, the fact that the place is absolutely packed almost every night of the week shows that they must be doing something right. Even if it is just the fact that they have picked the perfect spot for an inexpensive, simple, tasty, restaurant.

So now that I’ve had an obligatory moan, I’m going to give it a big thumbs up. The staff are really nice, the food is good and at around £30 for two pizzas and a bottle of wine, you really can’t complain. Apart from I can, and did, but you know what I mean.

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Turkish delights

August 9, 2009 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , , , , , , , ,

 

Kebabs this good are an art form. Don't disturb me.

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.

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And all that jazz

August 4, 2009 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged ,

 

  manhattan

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.

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Oh for the wings of the Dove

February 24, 2009 · Filed under Broadway Market, Uncategorized · Tagged ,

thedove

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.

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Pingpongtastic

November 19, 2008 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , , ,

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.

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London Fields Loves

April 18, 2008 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , , , ,

I have some issues with London. You probably already know that. I struggle with ugly buildings and heaving tubes, rude people and skinny lattes, stupid Shoreditch and ubiquitous Starbucks. I hate braying city boys, and Shoreditch tossers, Chelsea fuckwits and Clapham accountants. I like living in the same city as most of my friends, but hate spending hours of public transport trying to snatch an afternoon with them

But, but, but. I love London Fields. I love Mr Endearment at Hy-Minh who can get 20 or so loves, darlings, sweethearts and babes into one pint of milk transaction. I love the florentines in La Bouche on Broadway Market. I love listening to the bare licks hoodies on their phones passing the ponces talking about stewing organic apples in Marsala wine. I love those really weird pebble statues of the bowler hat-wearing couple by the swings. I like dancing on the sticky floor of the Dolphin despite the stupid hats. I LOVE playing ping pong. I love sitting in the Dove when it’s cold and spilling out onto the pavement of the Mat and Cutton when it’s hot. I love hot mushroom sandwiches with chopped parsley and trying titbits from the hot French cheese bloke. I like oggling the fit tennis coach when I’m jogging around the fields. I love pie and mash and Argentinian steak. I love not doing any work in La Vie en Rose, and the way Boualem says ‘Is it?’ instead of ‘really?’.

This blog is about making London smaller for myself, because I’m a northern softy who can’t hack the big city. It’s also about appreciating that we’ve got a good thing going on here, not just because of the quality of the organic, locally-sourced, additive-free, ethically-sound produce but because people say hello to you. They have a laugh. They’d probably pick up you if you fell over, even if you were pissed. Maybe it’s only a matter of time until we get our first Giraffe or Eat, so this is about appreciating the good stuff while it’s here. At the risk of sounding like a lentil-eating, Guardian-reading do-gooder, it’s about community. We have one. It’s ace. And that’s what this blog is all about.

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