Portobello Road Market

Portobello Road Market is actually a series of markets stretching over half a mile from Notting Hill Gate tube station to just past Ladbroke Grove; I usually take several leisurely hours to cover this allowing for dodging the crowds, browsing and the odd purchase, plus a pit stop or two for refuelling.

You can start at either end but as it's on a hill most people seem to start from Notting Hill and walk down, and on manically busy Saturdays when the antique market is in town it can be easier to just go with the flow.
Assuming you have picked a Saturday to visit, follow the crowds out of the station past the chocolate-box mews houses (look out for George Orwell's blue plaque) and you're straight into the antiques section of the market, which goes from Chepstow Villas to Elgin Crescent - you can download a useful map here: http://www.portobelloroad.co.uk/getting_there.asp

Serious antique hunters should arrive by 9am latest (NOT 5.30am as some guide books say - none of the traders will be there!) but for those of us who are just there to soak up the atmosphere and idly browse, the market doesn't start closing up until around 4pm so it's a perfect lunchtime destination. Also, don't neglect the arcades off to the left; there are plenty of goodies to be had in there as well as from the stalls.

You can pick up some incredible bargains here. I don't necessarily mean investment pieces (although I'm sure that's possible), more just beautiful, characterful touches for your home that would cost a fortune in a designer shop. I love hunting around for mismatched silver cutlery and I have a friend who has gradually collected a set of gorgeous old fine china cups, saucers and tea plates, all in different patterns and styles, which look truly fabulous together and give simple tea and cake a real frisson of glamour. Amongst the silverware, glass and china there are lots of other wonderfully quirky collectables: antique printers' trays and blocks, metal advertising signs, worn leather footballs and wonderful old tins in all shapes and sizes - the old-fashioned food ones like Homepride, Oxo and Tetley make great kitchen storage!

After Elgin Crescent this segues into a food market which on Saturdays covers not only standard fruit and veg but also artisanal breads, cakes and baked goods, olives, flavoured oils, chutneys and relishes etc. If you happen to be here around packing-up time (just after 4pm) the traders are often keen to offload the fresh produce, so you can grab yourself some cut-price treats to take home. This area also offers a wide range of freshly-cooked street food, perfect for a quick energising pick-me-up before heading off down the hill.

The next section of the market, from Talbot Road to the Westway, is more like a standard weekend market with a range of new goods. Quality can vary enormously from stall to stall and you will find everything from 'original' art, jewellery, scarves and rugs to clothes pegs, batteries and watches. Keep an eye out for the regular shops as well though, as Portobello Road is home to some fabulous independent retailers; the rather wonderful Street Sensation website offers you a virtual shop-by-shop walkthrough map here:
http://www.streetsensation.co.uk/ptbello/pb_intro.htm

Look out particularly for the Oxfam Bookshop (172 Portobello Road) - if you are a bibliophile like me, declutter your shelves and drop your preloved  books here, then browse their shop and take home a whole new selection, all for charity. If I lived nearer, this would pretty much be my library. Also well worth a visit is Books for Cooks (4 Blenheim Crescent), which is an unbeatable combo of eclectic cookery book shop and working test kitchen/cafe. As soon as you open the door a waft of baking lures you inside and soon you're sampling the very recipe you're looking at on the page. Genius. They also run workshops on making everything from pasta to sushi upstairs in their demo kitchen - check their website for details:
http://www.booksforcooks.com/

Another fabulous coffee stop is newcomer Casa Nova (140 Portobello Road), which promises 'chocolate and something more'. It delivers on both counts; my coffee was really good, gutsy with a nutty depth that really hit the spot, and arrived with some freshly-baked biscuits drizzled with chocolate. There was an extensive choice of cakes and pastries to go with, as well as a range of delicious hand-made chocolate. For those with a real sweet tooth or in need of comfort, you must try the hot chocolate. It is literally that - like drinking warm melted chocolate, an oddly Willy Wonka-esque experience but highly recommended.

As you near the Westway you start to get into the fashion market. This is a great place to pick up vintage clothing, bags and accessories as well as hand-made pieces from young designers, usually fashion and textile design students; worth it to know you're unlikely to turn up at a party in the same outfit as someone else, and fabulous bragging rights if they were to make it big! Some stalls have a theme, maybe military or evening wear, whereas others are just a treasure chest jumble.

At this time of year it is worth checking out this season's fashion for coats and then rummaging through the racks; basic shapes like the peacoat or riding jacket don't change and you can find a bang on-trend winter coat or two for a fraction of the high street price. The best stuff is under the Westway; the market does continue on and into Golbourne Road but it degenerates into car boot type second hand goods past Cambridge Gardens.

Obviously the market is a tourist attraction but Portobello Road is fundamentally a working market for Londoners and a great Saturday afternoon out; I haven't managed a trip there yet without leaving laden down with fabulous finds. Go, enjoy.

Yours, vintage clad,

Girl About Town xx

British Street Food Awards 2012

This post is not so much my usual suggestion  of what you might like to do at the weekend - unless you have a Cara Delevignesque diary and your next free spot is September 2013 - but more a brief note of thanks and congratulations to Richard Johnson and co. for the awesome foodfest that was the British Street Food Awards 2012.

Together with twizzle-sticks-at-dusk bartenders' shoot-out Ginstock and Rumstock, the British Street Food Awards turned the whole road outside Jamie Oliver's Fifteen into the best 10th birthday party for a restaurant ever. This was an amazing showcase for the range and quality of British street food today, from updated classics like The Fish Hut's cod in ginger beer batter, chips and minted peas to Hungry Gecko's smoked tofu and chilli jam noodles, which was delicious and full of fiery fresh Thai flavours.

The place was rammed, but the British knack for queuing won out; the atmosphere was incredibly laid-back and everyone was having fun and looking forward to trying the food. The queues were long, but after all it would be churlish to moan about the wait when you can watch your food being freshly-cooked right in front of you. This is not sitting on a hot-plate in a restaurant kitchen until the waiter has finished with the next table; this is hot from the wok, the griddle, the wood-fired stove, the . . . well, you get it.

Culinary spectacle aside, mobilers tend to be inherently interesting characters and they - and their vans/trucks/horseboxes - add to the theatre. The Mussel Men were living up to their homophone by accepting arm-wrestling challenges from the public whilst cooking up smoked mussels with heritage tomato and Ginger Pig chorizo sauce - fabulous!

Inevitably, with these kinds of crowds, vendors sold out; I was particularly crushed to miss out on sampling a pork Yum Bun, and one of Katie and Kim's Kitchen's custard tarts, which I actually walked past on my way in and mentally bookmarked for dessert. But this happens - nobody kicks up a stink when bricks and mortar restaurants say they are out of a particular dish, and mobilers don't have the luxury of storage (and often cash flow) that regular restaurants enjoy. I did manage to get hold of a much-coveted Well Kneaded firebread - we went for the goat's cheese, courgette, rocket and Parmesan version with home-made pesto - and amble over to the grassy picnic area to rest my weary limbs on a hay bale.

Congratulations to the winners, the organisers, and most of all the mobilers themselves - the whole event was a great day out and I was delighted to be there amongst fellow foodies.





Read about the award winners here: http://britishstreetfood.co.uk/2012/09/and-the-winners-are/ and follow the individual mobilers on Facebook or Twitter to track them down. I know I'm going to.

Yours, street-smart,
Girl About Town xx

(Da) Polpo Covent Garden

I'm a huge fan of 'sharing' meals across all cultures and cuisines: tapas, dim sum, mezze, I love them all. Not only do you get to try a bigger selection of what the menu has to offer in a generally very affordable way but you avoid the awful spectre of Meal Envy - when, having dithered over the menu for an age, your food arrives and you immediately and desperately wish you had ordered whatever has just been put in front of your neighbour.

In case you've been living on a culinary desert island for the past few years, Polpo is one of Russell Norman's group of restaurants across London based on the Venetian bacaro - a small, homely restaurant more like an Italian tapas bar, based around small sharing dishes and wine by the glass or carafe. Slightly confusingly, as the family has grown they have been rechristened: the original Polpo on Beak Street is now called Polpo Soho, whereas this one used to be Da Polpo and is now Polpo Covent Garden. A new addition has just opened in Smithfield. There are other non-identical siblings - Polpetto, Mishkin's, Spuntino (and apparently at least one more on the way) but I had set my heart on a Polpo, so Covent Garden it was. http://polpo.co.uk/

The Polpo restaurants have been criticised for their reservations policy, or rather, their lack of one. Lunchtime tables can be booked, to cater for business dining, but in the evening it's first come, first served - although you can order wine and snacks whilst you wait. Norman himself is unapologetic, reasoning that his regular repeat customers are likely to live, work or play locally so will be happy to just pitch up and hope. In a recent interview with the Observer's Rachel Cooke, he says 'It does confuse me that people rant and rave about this. If you want to book, choose a restaurant where they take reservations. It's that fucking simple!' Read the interview in full here:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/jun/17/polpo-russell-norman-interview

Or of course, if you particularly want to eat at Polpo (which we did), just get there early. We arrived just before 6pm on a Friday night and were seated immediately, so it is possible. There have also been murmurings about the appropriateness of such stripped-back decor, bare filament light bulbs and cosy-to-crowded seating in a restaurant that reached number 25 in the National Restaurant Awards last year. To these people I would say just be happy that there is an affordable, unpretentious, top-class restaurant in Central London where people who don't necessarily want starched tablecloths, starched waiters and the muted tinkle of crystal glasses can eat really great food and enjoy themselves. You're more likely to dine along to The Verve than to Vivaldi at Polpo and it fits the relaxed, companionable vibe perfectly.

Greeted and seated by a friendly member of staff, we started with a Caprese Stack and a Summer Pea and Speck Crostino, priced at £3 each. The crostino was pretty much what I had expected for cicchetti, or snacks; a couple of mouthfuls of crisp base, nice fresh pea topping and a decent-sized curl of meat. However, what I had thought might be a garnish actually turned out to be the Caprese stack. One cherry tomato, a single basil leaf and a small piece of mozzarella barely visible beneath said tomato, on a cocktail stick. I'm sorry guys, but seriously? In what possible world can that be £3? We also ordered a cocktail each - a Limona for me (gin, white vermouth and Limoncello) and an Americano for my companion. These were okay, but not wonderful; having said that, the emphasis is very much on wine here (and they did seem to be training up a new member of bar staff) so perhaps I would just go for wine next time - refreshingly all available in 25cl, 50cl and 75cl carafes for maximum choice.

Somewhat deflated, I awaited the arrival (and size) of the Classic Pork and Beef Meatballs with trepidation. I needn't have worried. Three generously plump and juicy meatballs smothered in an excellently-balanced fresh tomato sauce arrived at the table and I have to say they were superb. Great texture, perfectly seasoned, these were as good as I've had anywhere else - Italy and Spain included - and excellent value at £6. If they hadn't been so filling, I might have immediately ordered the Spicy Pork and Fennel meatballs, which sound divine. The Linguine Vongole was about the size you would expect for a starter portion in a standard upmarket Italian restaurant, tasty and with plenty of clams. 

Perking up again, we decided to try the Spinach, Parmesan and Soft Egg Pizzette, a side plate-sized dish more like a topped flatbread than a standard pizza. This arrived generously piled with delicious fresh cheesy spinach and a wobbly just-poached egg; utterly delicious. Wanting to try one of the desserts, and starting to feel quite full, we opted for the Baked Peach with Amaretti Cream; a halved roasted peach served with a respectable dollop of flavoured cream and sprinkled with amaretti crumbs, a perfect end to the meal.

I wholeheartedly recommend Polpo Covent Garden and will be back myself soon for sure. Portion sizes can vary wildly within the same price range but with some judicious choices this is still great value for money, considering the quality of the food in what can be a tourist trap of a location. Definitely worth an early dinner - oh, and I now covet the cookbook badly. 

Yours, sharing nicely,
Girl About Town xx

Superhuman

The Wellcome Collection describes itself as 'a free destination for the incurably curious' which makes it pretty much exactly my kind of place. Part of the Wellcome Trust (eponymous charitable arm of the pharmaceutical giant) the venue is designed to encourage visitors to explore the connections between life, medicine and art. Having really enjoyed last year's excellent exhibition Dirt - a whole lot more interesting than it sounds, trust me on this - I was very much looking forward to the current one, Superhuman.

The subject couldn't be more topical. South African Olympic and Paralympic sprinter Oscar Pistorius is currently making headlines following his shock defeat in the T44 200m final to Brazilian runner Oliveira and immediate public complaint about the 'unfair' length of his rival's blades. He later apologised for the timing, but not the content, of his outburst. Pistorius's point was that the longer blade results in a longer stride: ironically his own chosen blades are shorter to comply with the IAAF regulations that allow him to run in both Olympic and Paralympic events - Oliveira's blades are only legal in the Paralympics.

In a recent interview with the Guardian, Ben Rushgrove (who has cerebral palsy and runs in the T36 100m and 200m) points out the potential advantages that all 'Blade Runners' have over other athletes: 'the blade runners don't have feet so they don't suffer tendonitis or stress fractures. It also means they can train longer and harder than their counterparts. Coaches also say that the blades reduce body fatigue . . . For these reasons it was wrong in my opinion that Oscar was allowed to take part in the Olympics.' 
http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/2012/sep/04/pistorius-blades-advantage-in-olympics?newsfeed=true

This concept, that a double amputee with prostheses may actually have an advantage over those we traditionally consider 'able-bodied', is central to the Wellcome exhibition. Aimee Mullins, herself a double amputee and Paralympian as well as a model, motivational speaker and now actress, is quoted as saying, 'A prosthetic limb does not represent the need to replace loss anymore. It can stand as a symbol that the wearer has the power to create whatever it is that they want to create in that space, so that people society once considered to be disabled can now become the architects of their own identities.' 

Mankind has always sought enhancement to improve actual or perceived limitations; few would quibble with the use of a pacemaker or hearing aid, even contact lenses or lipgloss, but how far is too far? The first exhibit is a silhouetted figure of Icarus in flight, mythological poster boy for the downside of pushing the boundaries, whilst in Recorte por la Linea (Cut Through the Line) the artist is filmed standing naked whilst a plastic surgeon marks her body with a multitude of incision lines for potential 'improvements'.
Some items are equally controversial but altogether more bizarre and amusing (to me at least); the wonderfully-named Whizzinator, a strap-on prosthetic penis complete with dried urine sachets, originally designed to cheat drug tests but now marketed as a 'lifestyle choice' accessory, or a nineteenth-century pair of spectacles complete with silver nose made for a woman who lost hers to syphilis. An accompanying colour booklet, available for a £1 donation, covers the main points of each section of the exhibition and also contains transcripts of the Voices videos - experts in their fields talking about enhancements in sport, lifespan, even moral capacity.

If your curiosity is still unslaked the Wellcome Collection also boasts two permanent collections and an extensive library. Book into one of their free guided tours, take home some bedtime reading from the specialist Blackwell bookshop or just chill out with top notch tea and cake courtesy of the Peyton & Byrne on site café. Food for thought indeed.
http://www.wellcomecollection.org/

Yours, incurably curiously,
Girl About Town xx

Mr Brainwash

The Old Sorting Office on New Oxford Street (just along the road from the British Museum) is currently hosting the second London exhibition by film-maker turned street artist Mr Brainwash. You can't miss it; the outside of the building features giant images of the Beatles in bandanas, Kate Moss, and the Queen next to the graffitied slogan "God save the People', pink paintbrush in hand.

Mr Brainwash, aka MBW, aka Thierry Guetta first came to the notice of the general public in Banksy's Oscar-nominated 2010 documentary (mockumentary?) Exit Through the Gift Shop, where he is encouraged by Banksy and Shepard Fairey (of Obama Hope fame) to swap film-making for art.
Opinion has been divided since then as to whether MBW is a Banksy hoax, a late developer or an indictment of hype and gullibility in the art world. Either way, Mr Brainwash has since designed an album cover for Madonna, sold over a million dollars' worth of work in his debut exhibition and had work auctioned at Sotheby's alongside that of Andy Warhol.

So is Mr Brainwash nothing but a huge practical joke, a flipped finger to the world of art? You can get quite Dan Brown about the possible clues if you look for them. The name Brainwash itself . . . labels on the giant paint cans in the exhibition boast 'Improved hiding for better coverage' . . . Banksy's iconic rioter is pictured throwing not flowers but a copy of 'Street Art for Dummies' . . .

The portrait of a brooding Banksy (don't get excited, his face is hidden by a hood) in a Van Gogh-inspired room, ironically an artist whose talent is without question but who sold only one painting during his lifetime . . . hmmm. Also when you leave the exhibition you have to walk either to the left or right side of a rope, one marked 'Exit' and one marked 'Free gift'. Those who wandered down the exit only side and then asked for a free poster were told to go back and walk on the correct side of the rope . . . i.e. to Exit Through the Gift Shop.

Or perhaps Mr Brainwash just is who he is and what may have started as a prank has snowballed itself into reality. Interviewers have commented on how genuine he seems, how the exuberance and optimism of his work appear to be an outpouring of his own irrepressible personality. He describes himself as Banksy's 'biggest work of art' and in an interview published in the Evening Standard said 'Banksy pushed me to what I am today . . . but he didn't know that I was going to run and run!' http://www.standard.co.uk/lifestyle/london-life/meet-mr-brainwash-the-street-artist-taking-over-london-7956384.html

So if he is a Banksy creation - intentionally or otherwise - in going to see a Mr Brainwash exhibition, are you actually going to see Banksy? For his part, Banksy has made him a coat which reads 'Mr Brainwash is a phenomenon. I don't say that in a good way.' and Shepard Fairey has said, 'It was fascinating to observe a lot of suckers buying in to his show'. Confused? I think I need a lie down and a large gin and tonic (not necessarily in that order).

Anyway, back to the exhibition. Mr Brainwash's work has been described as 'happy art' and it is certainly that. Whilst it lacks the scathing social comment that makes much of Banksy's work so compelling, it is undeniably enjoyable; the serious, sober-suited security guard said that the exhibition had had over 2,000 visitors per day and certainly everyone there on my visit was having fun. The atmosphere was very relaxed; once past a cursory bag check (I was allowed to keep my bottle of water, they were more worried about pens, paint or crayons) you just wander around the exhibits, taking photos on your phone, chatting and pointing out new finds.

Pose next to a life-sized London black cab in a giant souvenir toy box, Mickey Mouse fashioned out of antique Coke signs or a 20ft gorilla made of rubber tyres, wielding the ubiquitous pink paintbrush. There are pop icons aplenty from Elvis to Elton; I particularly liked the series of music icons incorporating broken vinyl records (although some photographers of the original images are suing).

Th exhibition is free, runs from 1pm (not 11am as mentioned in Time Out) and has been extended until 7th September.
http://www.mrbrainwash.com/

Is it entertaining? Absolutely. Is it art? I have no idea - ask Banksy.





Yours,
Girl About Town xx

The Phat Phuc Noodle Bar

Worth visiting for the Facebook check in alone, Phat Phuc is apparently Vietnamese for 'Happy Buddha'. That may be so, but the fact that they have t-shirts for sale indicates that the implications of the Western pronunciation (and its financial opportunities) are clearly not lost on the owners!
http://www.phatphucnoodlebar.com/index.htm

Located in a small courtyard down a flight of steps at the beginning of Sydney Street, just off the King's Road in Chelsea, the Phat Phuc Noodle Bar is a welcomingly affordable spot to grab lunch. Seating is outdoors on chairs and benches with plenty of umbrellas to protect you from whatever elements the British weather feels like throwing at you. The seats are a tad rickety, the cushions worn and the food is freshly prepared in a beautifully-decorated hut that their Chelsea neighbours probably wouldn't countenance as garden storage - all utterly perfect for a Vietnamese noodle bar. Phat Phuc has really friendly staff and a relaxed, unpretentious feel that on a hot, muggy London day made me half believe I could feel sand between my toes.

We had prawn summer rolls and dim sum to start, followed by Bang Bang chicken noodle salad and Duck Pho (a Vietnamese noodle soup with duck and vegetables in broth). Each of the main courses was under £7, perfect for a frugal foodie in a very pricey part of town - although we did choose to match that price in drinks with a couple of beers at £3.50 each! I've not been to Vietnam yet so I can't comment on the authenticity of the dishes but I am a big noodle fan and I enjoyed my meal. The summer rolls were chunky, bursting with freshness and flavour; there maybe could have been a little more prawn in the filling, but then again these were twice the size I was expecting them to be, so perhaps that is churlish - the portions here are generous.

 My Pho was good; a nicely balanced broth base with plenty of noodles, several slices of moist roast duck and accompanying vegetables. There are a couple of chilli sauce options on the table so you can customise the spiciness ( beware the oil - it's HOT!) but it's perfectly fine without any if you prefer. My companion's salad was refreshing and flavoursome.

I wouldn't necessarily say the Phat Phuc is somewhere you should immediately rush your noodle-loving foodie friends to (that would be Koya in Frith Street) but the food was great, the staff lovely and I would absolutely drop in again if I was in the area. I fancy trying the Prawn Laksa next. Anyone out there know if it's any good?

Yours,
Girl About Town xx

Saatchi Gallery: Korean Eye 2012

The Saatchi Gallery is in the beautiful and perfectly proportioned Duke of York HQ building on the King's Road in Chelsea, less than five minutes' walk from Sloane Square tube, and entry is free. Membership to the gallery is also free and gets you invites to special events, talks and members' evenings as well as advance notice of exhibitions; get proactive and sign up in the online room on the second floor.

Korean Eye is the largest exhibition of new Korean art to date and the first time these artists have been shown as a group. Thirty-three artists were chosen from around two thousand applicants, providing a huge range of influences and styles in the works on show. Here are some of my snippets, pictures and highlights but I strongly recommend you go and wander round yourself and make your own choices (by the way, the gallery is fiercely air-conditioned - bliss on the muggy day I went, but you might want a warmish top).

I found shapes crafted from the porcelain deliberately broken and discarded by ceramic masters when the finished piece is not up to standard; Yeesookyung has taken these unwanted, destroyed pieces and made them into something new and desirable, covering the joins with gold leaf.

One room shows huge pictures with embedded photographs on acrylic like holograms that change as you walk past; people (and clothes) appear and disappear, details change, your interpretation of the work alters.

I loved the mesmerising portrait of an elderly Mother Theresa by Hyung Koo Kang painted in oils on aluminium, and pictures of braided hair painted using a single-haired brush.

Huge, photo-realistic pictures of cacti by Lee Kwang-Ho flank a delicate latticed sculpture in one room, and a selection of vases atop packing crates in another.

Cho Duck Hyun's apparently traditional portraits force their way into the present and trail fabric over the gallery floor, contrasting with Kim Buyoungho's wall-mounted bursts of twigs or aluminium.

The lower floor houses 20:50, a site-specific installation by British sculptor Richard Wilson and my favourite piece in a very rewarding visit. The viewer looks down on the piece from a gallery on to what appears to be a drop of several feet and white rectangles on the floor. As a fan of - but no expert in - contemporary art, I dutifully kept looking and awaiting enlightenment; it was the distinct smell of oil that dropped the penny for me.

The rectangles on the floor were in fact reflections of the ceiling lights, there was only one row of windows, not two. In one of the moments I love in art, when you suddenly have to reassess everything you thought you were looking at, I realised that there was an almost impossibly smooth reflective surface over the whole room, and that it was one of the least glamorous (Chris Ofili aside) substances possible; used sump oil. Deceptively simple, disorienting, genius.

Really, go. If you like contemporary art, I'm betting at least one thing there will make you catch your breath.





Yours, impressed,
Girl About Town xx