Maybe the reason I go into the city-part of London so often is because I am intensely frustrated by my current living conditions. On-campus has its advantages, I suppose; I'm right next to my classes and the gym and both are literally just outside my door; and it doesn't cost me my first born child to pay for a flat closer to Central. However, that means I have to put up with living near students who, collectively, live to party and scream outside my window. It also means I have to share a kitchen and a fridge with people who eat stinky food and somehow its stench always manages to seep into my food. Frankly, I don't appreciating my grapes tasting like garlic.
My lunch of "Select 3 Salads" at L'Opera, across from V&A |
Thankfully, there are alternatives to eating-in, more than I could ever want or need. Actually, from this explorer's perspective it seems like there are more places to eat in London than there are in the US, block for block, which is certainly saying something. What makes it even better, though, is that the places to eat-out here are exponentially superior. Just like in every other capacity, London has the best of the best when it comes to food. The English are not known for their culinary gifts, however, the best of the bests come to London to show off their own cooking excellences. And no one argues with that type of infiltration.
L'Opera cafe |
As I've said in the past, the best places to eat are always off the main streets, far and away from the crowds, tucked into the remote corners and hidden just enough so that they're nice and peaceful inside. Always, always, always choose an independent, non-chain cafe or restaurant. These are incomparably better. Over the past few days I've found a couple winners.
From my vantage point I could watch people come and go through the front door as well as look out the double-story front window down the length of tiny Avery Row.
Notting Hill's famous Portobello Road is jammed up with vendors and deal-seekers every single day of the week. You'll find yourself becoming quickly exhausted trying to fight against the crowds, especially on Saturday when the Market is in full swing. But head one block to the west and you'll find some peace and quiet on the street running parallel to Portobello. There are plenty of small cafes to choose from on this street but I chose, by random chance, Caffe Respiro, a French cafe run by a real Frenchman who speaks very little English...or just pretends he doesn't like a true Frenchman.
Caffe Respiro till |
Caffe Respiro |
The oddest part about this cafe was the basement, which I saw only because I needed to use its facilities. You wind down a treacherous set of narrow stairs only to find yourself in a long, long hallway, even narrower than the stairs as a result of the bookshelves lining either side of it. And these bookshelves are overflowing with books of wallpaper samples, of all things.
Daylesford Organic, while it is a chain, it brings all its food into its stores from its own farm in Gloucestershire where all the market produce, free-range animals, and fresh creamery products are produced. The market I stopped at was in Notting Hill, not far from Portobello Road, on classy Westbourne Grove amid other high-end clothing shops, primarily.
So there you go, three options out of, what, hundreds? Thousands?
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