I thought about leaving a gap between these two posts, but then decided that I couldn't be bothered and you'd probably prefer my ridiculously picture heavy posts to be out of the way sooner rather than later. You're welcome!
So when I left off yesterday, we were off for a night out in Clapham. (In case you're interested, we went to The Artesian Well, which was a good laugh, but maybe not worth the £10 entry fee. I suppose that's London for you) Unsurprisingly, when C and I awoke on Sunday morning, we were feeling... delicate, to say the least. My blood sugar levels had dropped so low that I "had" to eat a Snickers before breakfast (I wasn't complaining).
So after a slightly slow start, we got dressed (C in London Cool, me as a 1950s Girl Guide) and hopped on the Tube. I love the Underground, and like feeling like I look cool and in control to the tourists when I swoop through the barriers with my Oyster card. However, most of the time my Oyster card likes to play silly buggers and stops me from going through first time. Smooth.
Anyway, we were heading to the South Bank because we had heard tell of a food festival, and I can NEVER say no to one of those. And let me tell you- if getting free samples at a food festival was an Olympic sport, C and I would win gold.
So we got off the tube at Waterloo and headed in the direction of the Royal Festival Hall, where we found this.
So busy, right?! But so worth it- so much incredible food on offer. After a "quick" lap (you try fighting through those crowds quickly with a hangover), we decided that the arancini (risotto balls) would best serve our purpose, so back we went. It may not look like much, but these risotto balls with salad and ratatouille (hidden underneath everything else) were amaaaazing.
|Look, a hint of bare leg! Woo!|
We also decided that these looked too ridiculously good to pass up, so each picked one for later- C chose the peanut butter brownie, and I went for a salted caramel pecan beast. Incredible.
Also, at the back of the festival was a sheep show. Yes, you did read that correctly. I have no idea why it was there, or what was going on, but it was pretty entertaining and made us feel as though we were at the Devon County Show.
|Lenny was my favourite. He had mental curly hair/ fur/ wool|
Once we'd had our fill at the Festival Hall, we headed to South Bank proper, where we found even more food. However, the arancini were pretty filling so we had to skip sampling more delicious things, and settled for a cup of tea and a view of the London Eye.
However, we were feeling pretty sorry for ourselves, so slowly headed back to Clapham for a nap, the aforementioned brownies, and to catch up on the Masterchef final (woo go Natalie!)
When we were feeling a bit more human, we ventured back out for yet more food. (Actually writing this is making me realise just how much we ate at the weekend. Never mind, a weekend off certainly won't kill us!) We couldn't be bothered to travel far, so wandered up Clapham High Street and found ourselves in Haché. And oh my god we we glad we did.
Haché is a London-chain of burger restaurants (they're located in Clapham, Chelsea, Camden, and Shoreditch) and are oh-my-god-amazing. I know there are a multitude of burger places in London, but if you're near one of these, go.
Their menu is extensive, but exactly what you'd imagine- good quality meat with an enormous range of amazing sounding toppings. However, neither of us felt like being wildly adventurous that night, so I ordered the Steak Sicilian (Parma ham and buffalo mozzarella) in a ciabatta bun, while C went for the Steak Milano (buffalo mozzarella, parmesan, and a sundried tomato tapenade) in a brioche bun. We also ordered sides of frites and sweet potato chips which come in adorable mini deep-fat-fryer baskets.
As you can imagine, it was amazing. The burgers were well cooked, with just enough topping, meaning the burger itself didn't become overpowered. And the sweet potato chips were particularly exceptional.
So we rolled home, fell asleep watching Starter for Ten (which is great- I bloody love James McAvoy), and Monday dawned bright and sunny again. Which is normally exactly what you want on a bank holiday Monday, except when you're spending four hours on a train. At least I wasn't in the carriage with the broken air conditioning.
So that was my weekend! I miss London already, and may or may not already be plotting another trip back. Leo, if you're reading this, next time I will see you.
(after yesterday's little comment drama, I have decided that Clive is my new nom de plume)