Man, I hate how blank and un-full the page is when I start a new blog post...which might explain some of my reticence to write terribly often. Laziness, also, but all that blank white space? Intimidating.
Anyway. I'm back, friends, and I've got lots to talk about, some local, some on the road, and even some actual photos this time, yay! But mainly--of course--as usual--it's about food. I'm not sure of the exact point in time at which I became obsessed with food, but it's obviously become quite a hobby of mine, and it's just fantastic to have friends who are the same, and who really do their homework and then invite us along on their adventures.
So...I'll start with the stuff that's more-or-less irrelevant to you, dear reader, but it's nice for me to have a running list: good local meals that we've had lately! People, if you find yourselves in Zürich and environs any time in the near future, eat at any of the following...*
- Rüsterei: conveniently located about two minutes from our apartment, fantastic reuse of an old factory building, and really good fancy-ish food. I had some ridiculously tasty Spanish pork loin with lentils and a crazy-good brown sauce, and my friend Ralitsa had a tremendous risotto. They also have a cantina that I'd like to check out, and mainly for their Acapulco Dog (ok...and basically everything else on that menu...).
- Rolli's Steakhouse: trekked out to Oerlikon with Mike and a bunch of his steak-crazed co-workers to check this place out, and it's hilariously--and incongruously--decked out to look like an American diner. I was relatively underwhelmed by all of the fellows' steaks (they all got the same exact thing, no imagination!), but my buffalo steak and veggies were terrific, and the onion rings we shared absolutely and hands-down stole the show. Worth a return trip just to gorge oneself on onion rings. (Plus, all the steaks are served on a hot stone, which is super trendy here right now, but for a good reason, in that it's quite fun.)
- Kobal Curry Cafe: ate here with our friends David and Arline, and what an adorable place. It's tiny inside, with about 5 small tables, and has zero online presence, but their curries--at least, the ones we tried (my fish and Mike's game were actually nicely spicy)--were fantastic. And every plate came with dal and some sort of warm potato-y salad and cooked spinach. A total bargain, by Zürich standards.
- Meze: really good Turkish food from really nice people. We were a group of seven, so they brought us heaps of little plates for starters, and then gigantic platters of grilled meats for our main. Yum. (Oh, the haydari! the ezme! the sigara! and then these spicy vegetarian köfte-type things served in lettuce wraps! and then lamb and chicken and sausage and beef, but really, I could have just eaten another whole round of all the same meze, they were that good.)
- Two weeks ago, we ate at what's rumored to be one of the best restaurants in Zürich, if not the country: Rico's Kunststuben, which certainly has the price tags to match its reputation (...and its two Michelin stars...), but also has some excellent, interesting food and the best service we've received in this country. (I think it was 'cause we were there on a super quiet, nearly-empty evening, but we had more fun with the head-of-service, who kept us well informed about our food and wine, but who also read our table like a book and kept us laughing loud and long. Fantastic.)
Here's what all we ate. I thought briefly about just going with 3 or 4 courses, but the rest of our little group went all-in. So I went with them. No regrets here. Everything was delicious, and oh-so-pretty.
Plus, I had leopards on my plate. Awesome.
Love the color: this is the scallop with lime foam and truffle gravy.
I have no idea how I made it to adulthood, what with the dearth of rhubarb in my younger days...
They call it Kunststuben 'cause it used to be an art gallery and now is decorated in slightly offbeat, but pleasant, art-y decorations (including red and gold garden gnomes and a similarly-sized grass-green man with bunny ears...and now you can see why all my sad little phone photos are slightly red-tinged).
And this last one isn't a restaurant, but we did eat a ton: in February, Mike and I took a Moroccan cooking class at the Laughing Lemon, which is owned by the nicest people, and who do most of the cooking, then make sure you eat everything. Among other things, we had eggplant salad with tomatoes, garlic, and coriander; fava-bean hummus; this amazing phyllo dough pie filled with lemony chicken and eggs; beet salad; and pumpkin and lamb tagines served over homemade couscous (wow). Sooo good. Planning on taking many other classes with them.
Apropos of nothing, in January, we went to Torino for a quick get-out-of-town, and I was reminded just how much I really, really like that city. It's very comfortable, seeing as how we've been there at least seven times, and I've spent so much time roaming its streets...plus, you know, that whole "the food and wine in the Piemonte are seriously fantastic" thing. Mainly, we ate, we drank coffee, and we saw some nifty (and new-to-us) archaeology and palace-y-type things, the latter of which, sadly, I could not photograph. (Blast.)
Tradition dictates that our first stop in Italy, just past the Swiss border, is the Ristop gas station. You can see very clearly the delineation between countries here, where good food becomes a much more important part of the culture: this gas station (!) has far, far better sandwiches (and look how pretty!) and espresso than any I've had anywhere in Switzerland. (Although props to Brezel König...you guys are all right.)
Gorgeous Art Nouveau building right next to our hotel. Sigh.
Sunday market! You can actually see the deliciousness.**
Piazza San Carlo, with its twin churches and heaps of arcades...in my opinion, one of the more elegant and memorable squares maybe anywhere. (Plus, it's lined with these ornate little 19th-century cafes and chocolate shops. Tasty and beautiful.)
The lovely Art Deco Cinema Lux, which was all sad and boarded up the first time we were in Torino, and reopened as a modern multiplex just within the last few years. Frankly, I love it, as well as the gorgeous little restored shopping center around it. It's slow going, but every time we're in the city, they've refurbished and restored some other glorious piece of it, and it just gets better and better.
The Juvara staircase inside Palazzo Madama (constructed between 1718 and 1721). This thing is stuck onto the front of a medieval castle, if you can believe it. It's so odd, and yet so pretty.
Roman mosaics behind the Palazzo Reale.
I would insert here more photos of Turin's archaeology--we actually went to their museum this time, and it was great--but I seem to have lost all of those photos somehow. Sigh. They were good ones, too, and with some genuinely interesting historical tidbits. (Roman stuff! Celtic stuff! All the things I love in an archaeological museum! I suck. Am very sad right now.)
The show must go on, however, and now I guess I have an excuse to make a return trip down there sometime in the near future (heh, as if the food wasn't enough of an excuse...!).
Meats 'n cheeses at Eataly. Good, good stuff.
San Carlo at night.
Vitello tonnato at Con Calma! Amazing, local, home-style food. Not pictured, but also featured, in the tasting menu we just had to have: an amuse bouche of savory strudel; bagna cauda (roasted peppers topped with a garlic-anchovy sauce, way tastier than it sounds!!); agnolotti with chicken, nutmeg, and parmesan; brasato with polenta, rosemary-ed pumpkin, and sauteed purple cabbage; and for dessert, wee pieces of apple torte, pear cooked in barolo, and bonet (this weird Jello-y coffee-hazelnutty thing that's a very typical dessert of the Piemonte region).
Criminy, but the city center is elegant. One of my favorite buildings in the city, along Via Garibaldi.
Another Sunday market, this one in front of the Palazzo della Citta. The cube lights suspended over the square are there to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the unification of Italy (...I think).
Various focaccias at Perino Vesco, pretty much my favorite bakery ever. (I was lusting after the one with arugula and mozzarella on top, but we'd just eaten pastries and grabbed some sandwiches for the road,*** so a piece of focaccia felt a bit excessive. Sadly.)
February was pretty quiet, other than cramming in the last heartbreaking performances of KFH, but after that, thankfully, things picked back up. For example, maybe one of the most ridiculous, notable, and over-the-top things we've done in a long, long time, was attending the Chienbäse parade in Liestal, which is most likely an adorable and quiet medieval town for most of the rest of the year, but which goes absolutely nuts during the Fasnacht (Carnival) season. Most of the Fanacht parades around here involve big weird costumes and lots of marching bands and confetti, and occur during daylight hours, but the Chienbäse is an entirely different animal. As in, an animal involving huge amounts of fire being paraded through a medieval arch and down a relatively narrow street packed with spectators (many in costume, for whatever reason) who have very few escape routes, should anything go horribly wrong. In other words, awesome.
I'm assuming they had a more standard procession earlier in the day, 'cause the bands were still parading through the streets at random intervals, or playing short sets in this little square.
Here you can get an idea of what I mean by "big weird costumes." (I think these might have actually been the least threatening ones there...)
These guys were fantastic, and their drum line superb.
We followed them for a bit so I could get a shot of their masks. (The stuff all over the ground is confetti. It was everywhere, and in some places it was ankle-deep. And a little kid threw a giant handful of it on Mike. Heh.)
Here's the street down which the fire parade marched, and with the arch just barely visible at the far end.
The parade began just after dark, led by a few marching bands whose masks had glowing eyes (yeah...'cause that's not spooky). The green line in the foreground is the lightsaber of their leader, Yoda (naturally), but my favorite bit is the ominous glow of giant fires in the background.
A few floats, plus a fife-and-drum corps with lights strapped to the tops of their heads.
Giant monkey float, plus the first of the big fire wagons passing under the arch.
Fire! All of the wee fires behind it were people carrying these giant bundles of firewood strapped together in a shape similar to a witch's broom. It was insanity.
Most of the big wagons were on wheels, but people were actually carrying this one like a litter.
A slightly better view of the firewood bundles, plus a view down the street the other way.
Wagon with a witch on top.
The guys pulling this one were wearing ponchos and sombreros. They stopped and mugged for a bit and then got the crowd to do the wave.
The scariest of the big wagons...this one was stacked so that the fire shot out from the sides, right over the spectators' heads. It was impressive and actually pretty scary.
Another fancy wagon design.
So every now and then along the route, the wagons would come to a stop...not sure whether it was congestion, or just to show off, but when they stopped nearby, it was hot. Really, really hot, and thankfully, we were standing on the deeper side of the parade route, so we had a little more distance from the flames, but these poor souls were packed against the building and had to huddle with their backs to the fire so as not to roast their faces too much. Sooooo very hot.
Here you can kinda see that all of the confetti and the embers from the wood bundles and fire carts actually caught the street on fire under the marchers' feet. (They have a whole list of rules for attendees on the parade website, and among them is the suggestion that those in attendance wear old clothes since there are so many sparks and embers in the air. We didn't have a problem, but I can see why that might be a good idea.)
Tallest fire of the night, plus four-story building for scale.
Mike got a nice shot of this guy's shiny helmet. (Not to worry, Mom: all of the people in the parade, with the exception of those crazy banditos, were wearing super heavy fire coats and helmets, and there were firemen and -women and water hoses everywhere. They imported them from all the surrounding towns, too. I hope they all got paid overtime, 'cause they earn their money at the Chienbäse.)
Post-parade, this is how smoky the main street was. (And crowded, and a bit disgusting, 'cause the firefighters flooded the street afterwards, and the water mixed with the heaps of confetti and ash left from the parade.)
Fife-and-drum corps.
The bands continued to play and march through the streets, then stop and play a few songs. The guy with the giant skull head here is the leader. (He even had on skull makeup under the giant head.)
Close-up of the band's masks. This particular band also had not-one-but-two people playing fixed sets of cowbells. Spectacular.
As one might suspect, we did, in fact, sample some of the festival food. (A thing which I dearly, dearly love.) Before the parade we had a couple of bratwurst, and afterwards we tried out a schnitzel sandwich with some sort of magically delicious sauce and an amazing and spicy merguez sausage. (Had heard of those before, but never tried one. Highly advise it.) This is one of the best things about living in Europe, people: crazy and unique little festivals (some of which could never happen in America with a wide margin for safety, if at all) scattered throughout the countryside, and the delicious and interesting foods that accompany them. We love this stuff.
Next up--and certainly a bit anticlimactically, I might add--was a quick weekend in Geneva to finally take the trip I'd planned as Mike's Christmas present. I really wanted to take him on a tour of CERN, and especially the underground bit that's sometimes accessible to the public there, but their website said that the LHC was in use and an underground visit wouldn't be possible, so I booked the standard tour. Big, big, fat, waste-of-time mistake. Turns out the collider is on its annual "long pause" so that they can study the data, and one can book an underground tour if one knows they're available and they have extra spots (groups only, of course!), but I knew none of that, as it wasn't advertised anywhere except for at the end of our own crummy tour, and so we went on a stupid and pointless above-ground jaunt. (Yep, I'm just a wee bit bitter. It would have been a great surprise for my husband.) But anyway. At least the rest of the weekend in Geneva involved pleasant weather, some great museums, and some spectacular food.
The Brunswick monument, a neo-Gothic-Italian-style mausoleum built for a duke who bequeathed his entire fortune to the city, if only they'd build him this exact mausoleum. Awww.
The Jet d'Eau, which is actually more impressive than we thought it might be. (Woo! One giant stream of water shooting into the air!...is how we felt.) It shoots 500 liters of water into the air per second, up to 140 meters (459 feet) high. Plus, when it's sunny, there's a rainbow.
The famous flower clock. Not terribly exciting, but terribly popular.
Arches in the State Chancery building.
Mike loved these wooden storefronts.
Place du Bourg-de-Four, the oldest square in the city (...9th century!). And super pretty, too.
One side of the Place. Love these buildings.
St. Pierre cathedral--a weird agglomeration of styles, but that makes it interesting.
St. Pierre interior: super spartan, but high Gothic.
Little dragon-duck-guy on the 15th-century choir stalls...
...which I found tremendously impressive.
I always look for these now: distinct and unique carvings on the misericords.
Mike with Calvin's chair. Apparently, Calvin was a wee little man.
Took a tour of the archaeological site underneath St. Pierre, and just wow. It is extensive and impressive. This is a 5th-century baptismal font.
Carved choir screen from sometime during the 7th/8th centuries.
Maybe the most interesting part of the entire site: the tomb of an Allobrogian (Celtic) chieftain who was buried here in roughly 100 BC (!), whose grave caused this particular hillside to be increasingly venerated over the centuries, which in turn led to the construction of successively larger shrines, then churches, and finally cathedrals built on the site. As in, the site of the current cathedral (and all of the hallowed buildings before it) wasn't selected for any particularly lofty reason other than "the guys who were here before us thought this ground was special, so we do, too." Fascinating stuff.
The 11th/12th-century Romanesque crypt, which was originally shaped like a rotunda with a vaulted ceiling. Here you can see one of the original stone doorways, now bisected by the floor of the modern cathedral. Craziness.
They had sooooo many amazing carvings from previous cathedrals and nearby areas: here, a 1st-century block from Nyon, which is just north from Geneva along the lake.
Fifth-century mosaic floor from the bishop's receiving hall. The remaining original patterns are stunning; the pieces patched by later "artisans," not so much (there's a patch here in the right foreground). It's hilarious and sad, all at the same time.
Don't know anything about this column piece except that A) it's old, and B) it looks almost exactly like something you'd order for your garden or patio from SkyMall. It cracked me up, pun intended.
Next, on to the Art and History Museum! Wherein we saw tons of glorious paintings and sculptures by old masters, but also discovered the works of Ferdinand Hodler, which I now love. Apparently, he was one of 19th-century Switzerland's most famous painters; had a fairly tragic, if slightly scandal-filled, life; and is categorized as a Symbolist. Whatever that means, the guy was amazing and talented and I think his landscapes and quasi-Art-Nouveau-y paintings of women and his self portraits (of which there's a wallful pictured above) are just striking.
Heh...maybe my new favorite painting of all time. It's by Olivier Mosset, from 1988, and it's just called "Orange - Failure." Dude, if you were trying to paint the canvas entirely orange, then I have news for you: this ain't a failure. Well done, in fact. Very well done indeed.
Spanish guitar from 1597, inlaid with ebony and ivory (pre-dating the Stevie Wonder song by 385 years).
Silver iris vase from Paris, 1901. Looooooooooove.
They had one entire room filled with these amazing old pewter tankards, each of which had all sorts of stamps and initials carved into the lid. No idea how old they were, or what their stories were...I just liked how individual and personal they seemed.
Entire rooms full of furniture and paneling from the 17th-century chateau at Zizers (Switzerland).
These were amazing, and there are only 6 left: original 15th-century stained glass windows from the St. Pierre cathedral.
Sixth- or seventh-century silver Byzantine plate.
Siege ladder!
Corinthian-style bronze helmet from about 650 BC. It reminded me of Gladiator.
Geneva's Russian Orthodox church, built in 1859.
This one's for Dad: the Reformation Wall, built in the early 20th century into part of the 16th-century city walls around the Parc des Bastions, on university ground. The text on it is written in French, English, German, and Dutch, and it commemorates both the 450th anniversary of Calvin's birth and the 350th anniversary of the university's establishment...and, of course, Geneva's role in the Reformation.
The four central figures are William Farel, John Calvin, Theodore Beza, and John Knox, and I included the guy sitting next to them for scale, because this thing is huge. And these guys are stern. And scary-looking. Also included: William of Orange, Gaspard de Coligny, and Frederick William of Brandenburg, on the left of the center statues; and Roger Williams, Oliver Cromwell, and Stephen Bocskay on the right. (Innnteresting groups, those.) Luther and Zwingli only got their names carved onto big blocks at either end of this wall. No statues for you, guys.
A bit further down from the Wall, a huge group of folks playing oversized chess and checkers next to a great glassed-in gazebo of a restaurant. Lovely, lovely park.
The next day, before our CERN "tour," we made a quick stop past the Schtroumpf (German for "Smurf") buildings which were built in the 1980s, but were designed to have an extremely Gaudi-esque feel to them. Can't decide whether I'd want to live there, although I think these things are architecturally delightful.
Love the layers of balconies on the end and the crazy window shapes on the bottom floor.
The only really interesting thing we saw at CERN: the Atlas control room. Other than that, it was a complete bust. Don't waste your time, unless you can go underground. Bah, humbug.
At least Geneva provided us with one spectacular eating experience: we decided to go a little nuts and dine at Bayview, supposedly the best restaurant in the city, and while the service was a little weird (as in, the place was mostly empty for the first hour of dinner, and so we actually got too much attention...!), the food was nothing short of phenomenal.
Two degustation menus in one blog post! We might just be getting a bit big for our britches.****
Next up (for me, at least...) was a long girls' weekend in London with my friends Nanda and Candice (and we met up with Nanda's friend Dairne there, too). Don't kid yourselves: the entire purpose of going was not to sight-see or to get any sort of culture, but merely and solely to eat and drink. (And then to shop, if there was time.) Didn't take the real camera 'cause I was far too lazy to carry it around, so allow me to present a wee smattering of the photos from my phone. Ta-daaaah!
The view just outside of the Southbank Centre, where our first meal in the city was hard-earned by waiting in super long lines full of hipsters at a street food festival. So entirely worth the hassle! We shared a phenomenal kimchi burrito with pulled pork and cheddar cheese; some absolutely fantastic and nearly ethereal steamed pork buns; really nice blackened catfish and pulled pork with spicy BBQ sauce and a spicy mayo; and finished with a serving of pork and of vegetarian gyoza. Sigh. Street food.
Piccadilly Street. So much good food and fun shopping resides very near here, and plus, it's wicked pretty.
Tea service for sale at Fortnum & Mason, where we spent a good two hours browsing food and tea and biscuits. (Not ashamed at all.) I love that signature pale turquoise color.
Inside the Liberty department store, which is full of amazing and fantastical things to buy, and whose interior timbers came from the HMS Impregnable and the HMS Hindustan in 1924.
Detail under the roof of the atrium...where they also had some ridiculous Art Nouveau-y and craftsman-style antiques for sale. Wanted them all.
The view from Duck & Waffle, maybe one of my new favorite eateries ever. They're on the 40th story of a nice tall skyscraper, so the views are ridiculous, and the food and cocktail menus are quite something. Plus, it's a bit upscale, while still being rather laid-back. Loved it.
My ox cheek eggs benedict. Holy smokes, so delicious. (As was the french toast Dairne was kind enough to share with all of us, which was crispy and thick-cut and drenched with buttery maple-caramel apples and cinnamon ice cream. [Insert Homer Simpson-esque drooling noises here.]) (Can also recommend the Champagne Negroni and the JD&C.)
Well. I feel like I've prattled on long enough here, and so I'm going to wrap this up for now. If you're thinking, "Gosh, this post wasn't long enough, and there's not enough crap about food here," then you're in luck: next up is yet more food blather, plus a second (how fortunate am I?!) trip to London, and potentially talk of books/movies/TV/cooking. The life I lead is difficult, kids, but I suppose someone has to do it.******
*Just realized that this list--nay, this entire post--is not in in any way, shape, or form, in chronological order. In fact, it's All. Over. The. Map. But whatever, I suppose. Lots to say, and not a lot of time to say it in, people!
**Just after this, we broke down and went and had some terrific prosciutto sandwiches--just ham and bread, but so good!-- at Primosenso, and then later on shared a prosciutto/arugula/sun-dried tomato/stracchino sandwich (ok, so, I'm obsessed with Italian sandwiches...none of this is Mike's doing) from Master Sandwich. Which sounds goofy, but assuredly is not. And has terrific fresh sandwiches.
***A cannolo and an apricot brioche, to be precise, plus bresaola/mozzarella/arugula and prosciutto/scamorza paninis. Yes. I love this bakery so much that I care enough to document exactly what we ate there. I'm fully aware of how ridiculous I am, thank you.
****If you're into notes/specifics: there were 3 amuse bouches, but the best was a little pearl onion somehow entirely infused with beef broth. The (unlisted) appetizer of cauliflower foam with shaved, cooked cauliflower, micro arugula, and almonds was interesting and super tasty, and let's face it, it's hard to go wrong with foie gras in pastry. The abalone and sausage dish was a surprising, but entirely awesome, combination, and the bass dish was utterly outstanding (brilliant green coriander sauce = AMAZING, and the cheese pasta was almost too thin and tasty to be believed, plus...bass, mmmm). I'm not that big on red meat these days, but the veal filet was absolutely the perfect shade of pink inside and nicely, crispily seared on the outside, sprinkled with sea salt, and served with whipped potatoes with truffle foam and a "garden" of veggies (standing on end to look like a miniature garden on the plate! on top of stripes of green and orange sauces laid so that they looked like a giant carrot shaving! gorgeous and fun!). As expected, the cheese course was also great--especially the part where we got to select our own, from a truly impressive cart. (I had wee pieces of some sort of northern-French, bright-orange, vaguely cheddary-tasting cheese; a wee tomato goat cheese; a soft white goat cheese; and a cheese infused with hazelnuts; Mike went for a killer Gruyere and Appenzeller, and some sort of mystery flat white cheese. All yummy.) The "sweet moment" turned out to be what they called a "pre-dessert" of grapefruit foam over a basil granita...not my favorite, but then came the wickedly dark chocolate mousse with its tart berry sauce, so it all turned out ok. (Oh yeah...and the butter served with our bread was "by" someone. As in, it had its own chef and creator. Insanity.)
*****Honorable mention: places-we-wound-up-in-due-to-the-influence-of-other-nice-people, including The Looking Glass and tremendous desserts at Ottolenghi Islington.
******(I put all of this in writing to have a record for myself, but also, you know that I tell you all of this to make you want to come visit, right? If you didn't know that before, consider yourself informed. Come visit. I promise, if nothing else, we'll see some cool old stuff and eat ridiculously well.)*******
*******Cripes, Blogger, make some sort of symbol set available to me so that I don't have to fill the page with stars to create asides. Sheesh.
****If you're into notes/specifics: there were 3 amuse bouches, but the best was a little pearl onion somehow entirely infused with beef broth. The (unlisted) appetizer of cauliflower foam with shaved, cooked cauliflower, micro arugula, and almonds was interesting and super tasty, and let's face it, it's hard to go wrong with foie gras in pastry. The abalone and sausage dish was a surprising, but entirely awesome, combination, and the bass dish was utterly outstanding (brilliant green coriander sauce = AMAZING, and the cheese pasta was almost too thin and tasty to be believed, plus...bass, mmmm). I'm not that big on red meat these days, but the veal filet was absolutely the perfect shade of pink inside and nicely, crispily seared on the outside, sprinkled with sea salt, and served with whipped potatoes with truffle foam and a "garden" of veggies (standing on end to look like a miniature garden on the plate! on top of stripes of green and orange sauces laid so that they looked like a giant carrot shaving! gorgeous and fun!). As expected, the cheese course was also great--especially the part where we got to select our own, from a truly impressive cart. (I had wee pieces of some sort of northern-French, bright-orange, vaguely cheddary-tasting cheese; a wee tomato goat cheese; a soft white goat cheese; and a cheese infused with hazelnuts; Mike went for a killer Gruyere and Appenzeller, and some sort of mystery flat white cheese. All yummy.) The "sweet moment" turned out to be what they called a "pre-dessert" of grapefruit foam over a basil granita...not my favorite, but then came the wickedly dark chocolate mousse with its tart berry sauce, so it all turned out ok. (Oh yeah...and the butter served with our bread was "by" someone. As in, it had its own chef and creator. Insanity.)
*****Honorable mention: places-we-wound-up-in-due-to-the-influence-of-other-nice-people, including The Looking Glass and tremendous desserts at Ottolenghi Islington.
******(I put all of this in writing to have a record for myself, but also, you know that I tell you all of this to make you want to come visit, right? If you didn't know that before, consider yourself informed. Come visit. I promise, if nothing else, we'll see some cool old stuff and eat ridiculously well.)*******
*******Cripes, Blogger, make some sort of symbol set available to me so that I don't have to fill the page with stars to create asides. Sheesh.
