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Month: August 2012

Power Lunch at Dukes

Posted on by Rosie

Dukes is a sweet little boutique hotel in Mayfair.

They’re not new or glitzy. If Dukes were a person, he’d be a old gent, sitting in his study with a pipe and a glass of whisky. Refined and relaxed.

The restaurant, Thirty Six by Nigel Mendham is something of a whippersnapper in comparison. Still quiet and relaxed, but a bit sexier.

Their new “Power Lunch” is a West End girl’s dream.

When you arrive, you’re greeted with a chilled glass of bubbly, a food menu and an ‘extras’ menu.

Essentially it’s lunch with a PA thrown in for free. Tick the boxes and the staff will run across town to pick up whatever you need.

I chose to have my phone charged, a fresh copy of Vogue, a birthday card and a speedy manicure. While the wonderfully accommodating staff rushed off, Holly & I were left to enjoy lunch.

We asked the sommelier to choose us a wine for each course. I much prefer to hand over control when it comes to wine. The pouilly fumé on the right was my favourite by far.

Holly went for ham hock and pea ‘textures’. While I started with the mackerel fillet, smoked eel, watercress and crispy egg.

H moved on to hake with asparagus, jersey royals and langoustine.

I had braised beef, sticky cheek, mash and ‘flavours of burgundy’.

My favourite pudding was the chocolate slab with popcorn ice-cream and caramelised bananas.

As I put my fork down I was whisked downstairs for my manicure.

In and out in under an hour with a fully charged phone, niece’s birthday card, new magazine and new nails. Three courses are a very reasonable £28, obviously more if you drink and have spa treatments but seeing as you can barely buy a sandwich for £10 in Mayfair, I was impressed. Website here .

Who’s excited for the weekend? I think I might pop back to the country to spend some time with Custard. My wellies are looking a little too clean, time for a stomp through the woods I think. What are you up to? .

Homemade Gyros

Posted on by Rosie

I love Greece, and I love Greek food.

My family and I used to go to the islands every summer. We’d take a boat and find a private little cove for the day. With nothing but pebbles and crickets to keep us company, we’d read and snooze until the early afternoon when we’d sail off in search of lunch.

Most of the restaurants would have their own jettys, so I’d throw a waiter the rope, tie up and spend the rest of the afternoon under the vines drinking wine and gorging ourselves on tzatziki and feta.

During the day I’d always have zucchini, pasta, cheeses, dips and olives. But once a holiday my mother would give in to my pleas and take me for Gyros.

Gyros (pronounced yee-rohs) are the ultimate street food. A flat bread packed to bursting with flavours, textures and that secret sauce everyone guards so seriously!

Next week my family are going to Greece without me, so I thought I’d make my own little slice of Greek heaven, and eat my weight in them while my mother’s back is turned.

If, like me, you fancy licking tzatziki and crushed guacamole off your lips with a guilty grin, you’ll need:

2 free-range chicken breasts, cut into strips,

1 ripe avocado,

1 tomato,

2 flat breads,

1/2 red onion,

2 tbsp malt vinegar,

2tbsp mayonaise,

2tsp harissa paste,

1tsp honey,

1 lime,

Tabasco,

Olive oil,

Salt,

Pepper,

Tzatziki (recipe from scratch here or store bought – I wont tell anyone),

Tin foil.

Start by chopping your red onion as finely as possible and pop it into a little Tupperwear pot with your vinegar. Put the lid on and shake it like a Poloroid picture. Pop this in the fridge to mingle. (The longer the better.)

Now, toss your chicken breasts in olive oil, salt & pepper. Add to a hot griddle pan and cook until brown and delicious.

While it’s cooking, slice your avocado & tomato and place to one side.

Make your Tzatziki (or open the pot you naughty little cheater).

Make your ‘secret sauce’ from your mayonaise, harissa paste, honey, the juice of one lime and tabasco to taste.

If your chicken is cooked by now, take it off the heat and place to one side.

Pop your flat breads under a hot grill for about a min each side.

Now, lay out a piece of foil and assemble your masterpiece.

I like heat so always add a little extra tabasco.

Wrap it all up using the foil, going at a slight angle like a florist would.

Place to one side.

And repeat.

Sit back with a cold glass of wine or a really cold coke (if we’re being trashy we may as well go all out) and pretend you’re sitting right here:

If you’re serving them for dinner you’ll probably want fries, but I think a well stuffed “yeeroh” is more than enough for lunch. Kalí óreksi! (bon appétit!) .

Notting Hill Carnival

Posted on by Rosie

Those of you who follow me on Instagram will already know that I had a whale of a time at carnival this year.

Phoebe and I spent the day wiggling away to reggae, hip hop & dance hall.

We made friends from all over the world and I met a few of my amazing readers.

It only seems right that I kick off my carnival photo diary with The King.

Bob.

We bumped into Ben from Yacht Week, who made quite an impression on Phoebe!

Liz.

My shirt is from Topshop (sold out, similar here), shorts are by Fashion Against Aids (sold out,similar ) belt by Mulberry and sunglasses by Ray Ban .

I got arrested for being a snap happy little paparazza.

Sorry Mum!

Thankfully he let me off with a warning.

Phoebe celebrated with back flips.

In Topshop shorts and RI high-tops

For lunch we lay on a lawn with big ol’ plates of jerk chicken and rice… not quite as good as mine, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

We danced until the sun went down… when the crowds started getting a little lary.

Phoebe and I held hands, ducked down behind a swarm of riot police and ran all the way home.

Yes we’re wimps, but having danced since 10am we were ready for pizza and bed.

Now the clouds of Jerk chicken and dope smoke have faded away, leaving The Hill to its yummy mummies and ladies who brunch.

Is Notting Hill Carnival a London phenomenon or are there similar parties where you live?

Ping

Posted on by Rosie

If you’re single, I’ve found your new date spot.

If you’re a ‘lad’, I’ve found your new boys club hangout.

If you’re a ‘Sex and The City cocktails with the girls’ kinda girl, I’ve found your new watering hole.

It’s called Ping and it’s West London’s newest slice of East London cool.

Ping pong tables, foosball, waitresses dressed as nerdy cheerleaders, DJs playing remixed nineties classics, all washed down with an impressive cocktail selection and pizzas to keep you flipping those paddles all night long.

Phoebe and I headed down on Thursday for a few cocktails and a game of table football with the boys.

Inevitably, ‘cocktails’ turned into dinner.

We went for the “Lap of Luxury” with black truffle, brie and duck egg.

And “The Pear” with English blue cheese, walnuts and fresh caramelized pear.

…followed by the Nutella pizza. Come on, a Nutella pizza? How could we say no?

After supper it was time to get down to business and play a little Ping Pong.

George & I beat Phoebe & Drum hands down. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.) And we moved on to a spot of champagne pong. Think American frat party beer pong… but fizzier.

After two rounds of beer pong (two bottles each) and a number of excellent frozen margaritas, it was time to go home. I call this glazed smiley face “The Ping”.

This place leaves you with a sort of smiley, tipsy glow that has you whispering “we won, we won!” all the way home. Londoners, I highly recomend a trip. Go and snuggle on the sofas, gorge yourself on pizzas and challenge your friends to a round of beer pong. They’re not open for lunch but they are open for supper every day except Sunday. Dress to chill and put your name down for a ping pong table as soon as you arrive. Website here , Twitter here . .

Beercan Jerk Chicken with Pineapple & Mango Salsa

Posted on by Rosie

This weekend sees the start of Notting Hill Carnival. For two days our peaceful little borough will be ablaze with colour, music, tropical cocktails and the smell of chicken on the grill. Revellers come from all over the world as we turn London into our own little Caribbean island and keep our fingers crossed for sunshine.

Most people come for the reggae, the drinks and the spectacle.

Me? I’m in it for the chicken.

Everyone has their own special Jerk seasoning, meaning no two food stalls are exactly alike. I pile my arms high with boxes of chicken, rice & peas, a chilled coconut and sit my little behind down to feast.

If you can’t make it into the city this weekend, here’s my own variation on Notting Hill Carnval’s magnum opus, with a little twist. Jerk chicken is usually chicken on the bone, cooked on the grill, but beer can chicken is really moist and feeds four with a lot less attention. Much more importantly however, if you say Beer Can, you should like a Jamaican saying Bacon. Surely that’s reason enough?

You’ll need:

One free range chicken,

One can of beer (I used Red Stripe because it’s Jamaican),

2tbsp dark rum,

2 cloves garlic,

A piece of ginger the size of your thumb,

2tbsp malt vinegar,

4tbsp runny honey,

1tbsp All spice,

1tbsp black peppercorns,

1tbsp dried chilli flakes,

2 scotch bonnet chillies (with seeds if you like it hot hot),

1 good handful of fresh coriander (cilantro),

Juice and zest of 2 small limes,

1tbsp rock salt,

3 spring onions,

2tbsp olive oil

1 pair latex gloves.

Scotch bonnet chillies are hot. I mean seriously hot. The latex gloves will protect your skin, but please be careful not to touch your eyes or anything else after touching them.

On a side note, I suggest you snap on the gloves, approach your chicken and say “cough please”… a funny chicken is a tasty chicken.

For the salsa: Half a pineapple, 2 ripe mangos, 1 small red onion, 1/2 a cucumber, 1 fistful fresh coriander (cilantro), Juice of 2 limes, 1tsp paprika, 1 big pinch of salt, Remove the middle shelves from your oven and preheat it to 180°C/350°F You’ll want to start by making your marinade. Add your dry ingredients to a pestle and mortar and bludgeon the hell out of them. Now finely chop your ginger, chillies, coriander (cilantro) and spring onions. Add them to your mortar and pour your wet ingredients on top. Moosh it all together until you have the most wonderful smelling goop (technical term).

Empty (drink) half your can of beer and impale your chicken on the open end.

Smother it in your marinade.

Cover every inch.

Place the whole thing into a baking tray, still standing upright and roast for about 2 hours. While it’s cooking you can make your cooling tropical salsa. Chop your onion and add it to an electric mixer with the rest of your ingredients. Blitz. Pour into a bowl.

(If you don’t have a mixer, just chop everything by hand, it’ll taste the same.) When your chicken’s all crispy and delicious looking, remove it from the oven and carefully lift away from your beer can (don’t drink this).

Serve with your salsa, corn on the cob and rice if you’re especially hungry. Bob Marley CD compulsory. .

Yacht Week Survival Guide

Posted on by Rosie

Ok, so I’ve had a couple days to get over my holiday blues. It’s been a tough battle of Custard cuddles, bacon sandwiches, naps and late night emails with Yacht Week buddies from all over the world. The one thing we all have in common? A solemn promise to go back next year.

“It’s nothing like the real world” may be something of a Yacht Week cliché, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. Here are my tips if you want to sail away to Planet YW.

– Decide if it’s right for you. You have to be at least 20 to go on Yacht Week, but the average age is about 25. People fly in from all over the world. It doesn’t matter what language you speak, there will always be someone for you to make friends with. There’s no room for divas on YW. Everyone’s expected to muck in with the sailing, the cooking & the cleaning. If Skipper wants you to wind that winch, you wind it! Obviously 90% of your time will be spent sunbathing, swimming, dancing and playing… but if you expect to be waited on hand & foot, you’re going to be disappointed. However, if you’re outdoorsey, fun and a bit of a party animal, Yacht Week is heaven on earth.

– Get a great group of friends together. You need to choose your crew carefully. These are people you’ll be spending 24 hours a day with, in very close quarters. You’ll share beds and very small bathrooms. If your friends are being boring and you can’t seem to fill a boat, reach out to people! Valentina & I were on a press boat with people we’d never met before and still had the most incredible week. If you’re thinking of going but can’t find a crew, leave a comment below and someone else is bound to be in the same… boat.

– What boat to choose The more money you spend on a boat, the more luxurious it will be & the more comfortable you’ll be. Obviously this will depend on your budget, but personally I’d rather spend less on flights and more on the boat I’m living on. If you’re flying from London, try Wizzair , it’s one of the cheapest and if you’re coming from further afield, check out Hipmunk.

– Book a skipper. Book one. Even if you know how to sail it’ll make your life so much easier, trust me.

– What to pack Girls, leave the hair straighteners at home. You’ll have little to no electricity for most of the week and if you’re not getting sprayed by waves, you’ll be being showered in champagne. Don’t take fancy clothes or high heels, you wont need them. Pack bikinis, shorts, sundresses and flip flops. Boys, you need trunks, sandals and shirts. Yacht Week is a mishmash of nationalities and as such people love to fly their flags. Pack as many patriotic items of clothing as you can find! Bring one jumper & team fancy dress for the regatta.

– Money You’re going to need money for food and booze. The best idea is to make a boat bank. Everyone puts in a certain amount of money at the beginning of the week and you use that for all your shopping needs. Food and drink was outrageously cheap in Croatia, and will be on most of the other routes. You’ll want lots of pasta, eggs, bacon etc. and lots of vodka, wine, beer and juice.

– Friendships A few people have commented saying that they think they’d be too shy to go on Yacht Week and they’re not sure how they’d make friends. This is crazy. Yacht Week is essentially one big, happy, boozy, incestuous family. Everyone is there to have a good time, everyone wants to make friends. Walk along the dock with a bottle of something delicious and share! It’ll be just like freshers week at uni… but naked-er.

– Couples Yacht Week isn’t a giant orgy. Believe it or not people actually go, have fun and get to know each other, they make friends and have a blast. There’s no reason you shouldn’t go as a couple. Some of the best boats had a mix of singles and couples. Why not get your friends together, his/her friends together and join forces? That way you get the the whole raging party scene, and a romantic holiday under the stars, all in one week.

– Music Make a great playlist before you go. You’ll be able to plug it in to the yacht’s speakers and it’ll make all the difference. When you’re docked people fight it out to play the best party music, if yours is the best, you have the best party infront of your boat, simple.

Of course you’ll always have the Yacht Week parties and club nights. The DJ’s are awesome and you’ll hear all the big summer tunes every night. Soon they’ll worm your way into your brain and you’ll be fist pumping in your sleep.

These are some of the biggest tunes from our week, the ones everyone went nuts for:

– Beauty Products

Take sunscreen. Lobster red is never attractive.

I swear by P20. You put it on in the morning and forget about it all day. It’s my number one summer beauty product. Buy factor 20 if you’re fair or factor 10 if you’re already pretty tanned. (It might seem expensive but it’s worth its weight in gold.)

Take hair goop. The sun, the sea and the champagne will ruin your locks. I went through a whole bottle of Moroccan Oil and Toni & Guy’s curl oil.Razor & shaving foam. If there’s one place on earth you need to be smooth from the neck down, it’s Yacht Week.

Take really delicious smelling aftersun. You’ll feel all smooth, sexy and totally edible.

Waterproof mascara is pretty much the only makeup we wore all week.

Other than that you probably just need deodorant and your favourite summery perfume (Guerlain Aqua Allegoria is my splash of choice.) We skipped the tiny showers on the boat and washed our hair in the sea, like good little mermaids.

– Last little luxury

Take your own big fluffy bath towel and don’t share it with anyone.You’ll thank me by day three.

I went on Yacht Week as press but you know me by now, I would never recommend anything I didn’t love. I love Yacht Week. More than any holiday I’ve ever been on. I’m already trying to get a boat together for The British Virgin Islands trip at New Year and I will be first in line to book for Croatia again next summer. If you’re anything like me you will love it.

All the info on prices, booking etc. can be found on the Yacht Week website . . .

Yacht Week, Croatia : Day Seven

Posted on by Rosie

Waking up on the last day of Yacht Week is the most bizarre feeling.

It’s such a bitter sweet mixture of emotions. On the one hand you’re tired, a bit burnt, hungover and all you want is a long hot bubble bath and your own bed with soft, fresh sheets. On the other hand you’re leaving all your new friends behind. There’ll be no more rolling out of bed and slithering into the ocean, no more dancing under the stars or learning how to say hello in every language imaginable (so far I’m up to: hola, boke, hej, hallo, salut, hallo, ciao, halloisen, merhaba).

We said goodbye to our new friends with hugs, kisses and furious scribbling of last names for Facebook stalking. They headed off to the airport for early morning flights and we took refuge at Laganini Beach Club . Which, by the way, is my favourite place in Croatia.

It’s a little cliffside oasis of calm & exactly what we needed after the Yacht Week whirlwind.

I ate myself to a standstill and drank just enough wine to ensure I’d sleep all the way home.

I woke up just in time to see the sun setting over London and felt a pang of sadness. Tomorrow Valentina will be going back to Sweden and I’ll be left to live without her again. Yacht Week was one of the best weeks of my life and I can’t believe it’s over.

If you’re keen to join Yacht Week next year, I’ll write a little How-To guide tomorrow with tips for booking, what to take, etc. But for now, I’m going to make the most of my last day with my sister from another mister, and have a little cry. .

Yacht Week, Croatia : Day Six

Posted on by Rosie

Race day. Remember a few days ago I told you we were in training for the Yacht Week regatta? I mentioned how seriously we were taking it and my mum even commented saying “Remember it doesn’t matter if you win or lose… unless you lose!” Well today is race day.

We started with the galley kitchen’s breakfast of champions. Everything in a pan, plus bread and lashings of bucks fizz.

How do you like your eggs in the morning? I like mine with bacon. On a boat. Cooked by semi naked sailors.

American bikini from here, polkadot from here

After a spot of tom-foolery, we got into costume and set off to the start line.

Valentina & I were ready with our Kigus but the boys had to improvise.

The other crews may have been coordinated but we had spirit, and that can’t be beaten.

Apparently fuzzy animal costumes are actually quite warm, so we did a quick Superman-phonebooth-change into stripy sailors.

So, it turns out I was wrong. “Spirit” can be beaten. We came 15th. I don’t want to talk about it.

After the race we sailed back to Split. The trip took just over four hours and the sleepy sailors snoozed the whole way.

The Yacht Week closing party was held in Vanilla. A really cool club with a huge swimming pool and diving platform. Here we made friends with a group of London rah-vers (posh ravers) and drowned our sorrows.

Fireworks bloomed in the sky as Valentina & I stood hand in hand, dreading tomorrow, the day when we’ll finally have to head back to reality.

Only one more day of sunshine left, then it will be all over.

Yacht Week, Croatia : Day Five

Posted on by Rosie

Sadly day four got lost in a sea of champagne and suntan lotion. Thankfully there are still 3 more days of Yacht Week bliss to make up for it! Yesterday we met G & O from London, so scooped them up and kept them hostage on our boat. I think we would make excellent Pirates.

We set sail after a little post breakfast swim. Feeling a little crisp under the midday sun, we followed Skipper’s orders and abandoned ship. He threw a rope overboard and sailed away. Giggling and spluttering we grabbed hold of the rope and slipped through the wake.

While this may sound deliciously refreshing, in fact you tend to end up with your bikini around your ankles and a belly full of salt water. Fun, but not for the faint hearted!

At lunch we gorged ourselves on seabass, figs, calamari, cheese, tuna & octopus salad.

Then a little afternoon-wine-infused snooze on deck was just what the doctor ordered.

Having had a swim and a few cold glasses of wine, we decided it was time to get the party started.

Why yes that is a hollowed out pineapple and a bottle of iced vodka. Don’t they just make the most adorable (delicious) couple?

We spent the afternoon lapping up the sun and making friends from all over the world.

After a supper of grilled lobster, grouper and calamari, we danced on table tops and sang until our voices gave out.

They say “Yacht week DJs stop when the last person leaves the dance floor”… we kept them going all night, baby!

Yacht Week, Croatia : Day Three

Posted on by Rosie

We’re in training. There’s a boat race later in the week and Valentina & I are the most competitive girls you’ll ever meet. Gold will be ours. The only thing holding us back is a total lack of sailing knowledge and ability. Not for long. I’ve been put in charge of tacking. I stand at the helm and shout “READY TO TACK?”, everyone shouts “READY TO TACK!” back, I shout “TACKING” and turn the wheel like crazy so we change course by about 100 degrees. Valentina’s chief rope puller so she stands right in front of me and works those little muscles. The Skipper runs around making sure we don’t break anything and the others sit around drinking wine and pretend to be impressed. They don’t have quite the same competitive spirit but we make up for it with lots of high fiving.

We sailed all the way to Palmizana, where we pinched the perfect spot, cranked up the music and poured the wine.

We befriended a couple stray Americans and spent the day playing with them.

I carried a watermelon.

After a few hours of dancing on deck we headed over to Hula Hula on Hvar for a beach party.

The Vilebrequin Londonders.

When the sun went down my camera went away but we stayed up. We lay under the stars with cold beers while an Irishman serenaded us with songs by The Kooks. I felt like a teenager again! Sorry Mum, I’m never coming home. .

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