Platform 9 3/4. Hogwarts Express. All Aboard!!

I am a die hard Harry Potter fan this is true. I wasn't  at first, truth be told. I despised the mass following and hysteria it cultivated. I simply didn't want to be apart of it. I wanted to be separated from the hype. Until one day, a girl from high school, had a copy of the Harry Potter book and I decided to ask her,  rather flippantly, " Is it really as good as they say?". What was supposed to be a one worded answer, essentially ensued into a monologue of how I should read it, how addictive it was, how it is one of the best novels ever written, how I was missing out and how she would bring me a copy. She said "Just read the first book and if you don't like it, then you have made a fair assessment and you can be done with it". She made a fair point and was convincing enough that I decided to read it.

I read it and completed it the day she gave it to me. I could not put it down. I was in love. I continued like this with the following books. From memory, I think I polished off the first four books in less than a month, leaving me eagerly and desperately awaiting for the next one.

And I remember the day I saw someone post on their Facebook profile, evidence of themselves standing in front of Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross Station. I was absolutely guttered. Why couldn't that have been me? I actually felt this surge of jealously. Then I hated them. So much so, it became quickly added to my bucket list Lol.

So when I was in London I didn't waste a moment getting there. I went to King's Cross station and asked while I was purchasing my ticket to Cambridge, eyes filled with excitement, "How do I find Platform 9 3/4?" Wow I felt like I was really going to Hogwarts. The lady behind the counter  cheerfully gave me directions there. Now, I could tell you how and where to find it because it isn't where you think it should be, but that is half the fun! Besides you have to work for it, just like Harry!!

I found my way there, my heart was filled with absolute joy. I unashamedly harassed some random to take my picture again and again, while wishing that I had my battle scar and Gryffindor robes in tow. (Even though I was supposed to be blending in with these Muggles). This, right here, was sincerely one of the happiest moments of my life. So sad but it is true! How can three quarters of a platform, half a trolley and a sign bring me so much joy?  I even walked away from the platform smiling, even at all these random nobody's. I couldn't contain myself, I was so thrilled.

If you're also a die hard fan, make sure you pay an honorary visit to King's Cross Station and break out the camera shots. Just don't forget your Nimbus 2000, elder wand, quill, owl, magical school books, Marauders Map and floo Powder. Oh and your Hogwarts admission letter. You can't forget that!

And if you are feeling particularly sad that it is all over with the final movie release of the Deathly Hallows Part 2, just as I am. Never fear because, "the stories we love best, do live in us forever. Whether you come back by page or by the big screen. Hogwarts will be always there to welcome you home". J.K. Rowling. 

Welcome to Platform 9 3/4.

Me feeling pretty happy with myself 

Food Porn: Take 3

One of the perks of having a sister and one that blogs about food, is most definitely the freebies. How lucky am I to have a sister like her. She is willingly aiding to my stash of food porn. To give you a bit of a background, my sister did a poor review about Apsley's restaurant (one Michelin) in London and boy did they find out about it. And we knew they did because they invited her back. Twice. Making it in total, the Apsley's trifecta.

She took my mother at their first invitation and they were ridiculously spoilt. I remember my sister calling me and listening to her explain to me how the chefs personally cooked for them. How the wait staff lavishly adorned them with truffles, caviar, lobster, champagne etc. Oh god I felt like I had dialled one of those 1300 numbers it was so sexy. The food that is, not my sis.

Now it was my turn. They invited her back for the trifecta and how could I refuse when summoned? And I can honestly say with my hand on my heart, I had the most overwhelming, exquisite, mind blowing, orgasmic, heart stopping meal at Apsley's. It was that incredible.

There were copious amounts of "Oh MY GOD",  "Wow that is good",  moments coming from my sister's mouth. My mouth included. Not to mention, eye rolling, eye squinting, hmmm-ing, gasps for air, finger licking, lip licking and other expressions of blasphemy. It was all very intense.

Out of context, you would think we were not at the dinner table. If you ask me, it was all a bit too funny and if not, really strange to my sister react in this way. I don't think she was even aware of it herself. At one point, I had to laugh and tell her to, "Ssshh", and ask "Do you hear yourself?"

It was a once in a lifetime experience having these Michelin star Chefs cook for us. We received a personalised 14 course menu and amouche bouches, where we were served oodles of champagne, caviar, lobster, foie gras, 40 year old aged balsamic. All ceremoniously served to us all thanks to my sister's blog.

One of the highlights was when my palette experienced for the very first time, quite literally, an explosion of delicate fluid motions of flavour explode in my mouth when I consumed the Carbonara Fagottelli. To do so, you have to place the carbonara pillow on your spoon, place it in your mouth as a whole and push your tongue to the roof of your mouth and allow for the fluid centre to explode and ooze the melt in your mouth liquid carbonara filling. Wow it was like I had devoured a liquid fireworks display. Simply stunning. Having one, only serves to beg for more and to beg the question, how does one encase pasta around a liquid centre filling?

I ate so much that I had to excuse myself to the ladies and sit myself on the toilet with the lid down to adjust myself and to find the most comfortable position possible. Not my most gracious moment however, I will care to share. I leaned back and stretched my legs to allow for my food baby bump to form. I wasn't appropriately attired for the occasion considering I wore a skin tight flaming red dress. And I mean skin tight and flaming. Could I have drawn any more my attention to my engorged stomach? I really ought to have worn my moo cow dress slash fat suit to allow for some girth. But my finest hour was when I could not consume anymore that I went back to the bathroom and decided to throw up in order to make room for more. Don't judge. It is a successful concept inspired by the Nordic Vikings. Ahem, yes really.

So brace yourselves and welcome to some much needed, nasty, filthy, unadulterated, mouth watering, decadent food porn issue. Ever.

18 year old & 40 year old balsamic vinegar
The most efficient foodgasm ever made.

The sound of the perfect bread

Not wanting to be wasteful we ate every last drop
of the Balsamic Vinegar they served to us.
To which they kept right on serving us!

Trio of Aubergine, Blue Fin Tuna and Pomelo

Handmade Buckwheat Spaghetti and Mackerel

Seabass, papaya and cucumber
(Oh god I am getting flashbacks)

Group shot
Amouche Bouches

We gasped for air right at this moment

Langoustine, Fennel and Grapefruit dished w Caviar
(Wow this takes right me back)

Sea Scallops w Crescentine & Sweet Chilli Vinagrette

Foie Gras Terrine w Smoked Apple drizzled with Amaretti Powder
(Sweet, salty & fatty finish over the palette. Just mindblowing)

Lobster w Taglionlini
(Yes size does matter. These lobster pieces were perfect in size that was
 succulent, tender and juicy to the taste.
The Tagliolini had the most silky smooth textural tendrils I have ever tasted.)

Wild Garlic Risotto served w Albacore White Tuna.

Lobster Salad w White Asparagus, Artichokes and Strawberries

Carbonara Fagotelli - Signature dish, as described earlier.

Rumoured to be Michelle Obama's favourite dish when she visited
La Pergola in Rome.

Pigeon wrapped in Puff pastry drizzled w Mustard Seed Sauce
& Balsamic and Apple Juice reduction

Rum Baba served w Pistachio di Bronte ice cream 

White Chocolate Ball encased over a frozen Meringue centre
served w Lime & Passionfruit

Coffee surprise of Marscapone Fondant, Vanilla Ice Cream &
Amaretti Mikado

Petit fours that came out as petit tens!

Relationships & the London Underground

The London Underground is kind of like having a bad relationship. When you meet it for the first time, you're excited by the novelty of it all. You want to go for a ride, you think it is taking you places you've never been before and you kind of like it. In fact, you like it a lot. Things are off to a good start.

Then you get to know it a bit better. It never arrives on time, you can never count on it to be there when you need it to be. You expect it to work but then suddenly, it doesn't. You realise it gives you mixed messages, it tells you to "Stand to the Right" on the escalator and then to "Keep Left" when you exit through the stairs. So you never know where you stand with it. It has signs that lead you astray, that get you lost telling you Trafalgar Square is here, when actually it's really over there.  Or worse yet, it doesn't give you anything at all, leaving you alone, lost and confused. If anything, it's a nuisance and it drives you mad. You can't live with it and you can't live without it. So you keep coming back for more, time and time again because things go back to being good. But really you go back simply and purely because you have to.

It also doesn't know where it is going sometimes. Which really drives me nuts. Take the Northern Line for example, it splits into four directions. One line, four directions. Could you be anymore absurd? You are deliberately doing this to wind me up aren't you? And if you are looking to go off into one direction (out of the four), it says something ridiculous like "via Charing Cross" or if you are going another way "via Bank". God you are not making any sense at all. Wouldn't it have been easier if you had of just said wherever it is you are actually going, being the "final destination", similar to every other transport system in the world? Why can't you just get to the point? Or better yet, safe the confusion and call it something completely different as opposed to having four different versions of the one line.

And sometimes people throw themselves in front of the tube rather than go on it. Really they do. Not because they hate it that much. Well, I couldn't say for sure. But it happens often enough, that when there is an announcement that the, "The District line to Wimbledon is experiencing delays due to someone going under", everyone's first thought is "Again? what a nuisance?" Sounds cruel I know, but that is how people think here. There was even one of those group emails circling around titled, "You know you have lived in London for too long when..." and one of the dot points read "You think it is a nuisance when someone kills themselves on the tube". Wow, that is bleak.

I even googled suicide rates in the London Underground and I found that it was 1 pound 50 plus VAT. Ouch, A bit steep hey? And the reason they announce someone has gone under is because they want to inform passengers that the Transport for London is not at fault for the delay. And here's a fun fact. If a tube driver witnesses three people who kill themselves on the job, policy states they are entitled to retire and access their pension immediately.

At the heart of any relationship, you kind of can't help but have a soft spot for it, maybe even love it. Despite its flaws, it is so London and one small part of what makes it so.

Welcome to the London Underground and my relationship with it, till death do us part.

Material Girl

Me and a friend Charlie, were on our way home from a Friday night out in London. We were standing waiting for our tube chatting away when this guy approached me and said "Excuse me. Do you mind feeling my jacket and telling me what fabric this is made out of?"

Confused by it all I said, "What?"

Despite the look on my face he continues and rephrases the question, "Do you mind feeling the fabric of my jacket and letting me know what it is made out of?" He leans in and gestures for me to follow his lead.

I respond to his request and I obediently take the fabric and rub it in between my fingers. Confused by his request and even more so by what his jacket is made out of. I think long and hard about what the fabric is actually made out of.

I finally conclude, "Ummm... a cotton polyester blend?".

I think to myself, I have the right answer and at this point I am feeling pretty proud of it too. He smirks, he grins and cheekily says, "Don't you mean... boyfriend material?"

Boom tish.

Welcome to bad pick up lines. And to girls that fall for them.

Fear of flying & Bad Landings

Sounds strange I know but I have this fear of flying. Nothing too serious but it is kind of ridiculous isn't it? I love travelling but I hate flying. I am like God's cruel little joke. I tend to suffer this anxiety right about when the aircraft is taking off, landing, experiencing turbulence and any weird noises the plane makes, which more often than not, is all the time. Funnily enough though, the only thing I do love on board is the food. I love plane food and I mean, I genuinely love it. "Chicken or Beef?" "BEEF!"

Did you know that food heats at a higher temperature when it is at 45,000 ft high. It also doesn't taste the same as it would on ground, so they have to make food more jam packed with flavour in order for you to even taste the stuff at that altitude. I digress.

I experienced the worst landing of my life into London. It almost killed me, well thats what it felt like anyway. Despite the amount of times I have flown, there I was, nervous again. I fly quite a lot too. I mean I fly for work and then I make a commitment to take a trip at least twice a year. You would think I have this firmly under my control. Not even. The other day,  I was even taking deep breaths and to make me feel more at ease, my sister took my hand into hers and held it. And looked at me lovingly with her big brown eyes and said "It's Ok, you will be fine". And to think I used to love flying as a child and the bit I loved most was of course, during take off and landing. Turbulence was even better.

So as we were going in for landing. The plane was significantly wobbling to the left and then to the right and back again. All I could think was, "Are we going to topple over and flip?" For some reason the pilot couldn't line up the aircraft and keep it level for the last 10 minutes of the flight and we were already experiencing turbulence for the last 20 minutes. So I was already in sick mode. When the pilot finally landed, I heard the loudest bang of my life, which was the sound of the tires hitting the runway and because the brakes hit the runway with such intensity. The plane rebounded off the runway and back onto it again. So we technically landed twice. The pilot slammed the brakes and the plane came to a screeching halt. Everyone was thrown forward from their seat, to the point where everyone had to throw their arms forward to protect their face from being smacked by the seat in front of them.

But my sister, takes the cake. She took a flight in South America and when she boarded the plane it was one of those unwanted Russian fighter planes. The interior was simply the shell of the plane with unsecured plastic seats, so you had to essentially play musical chairs to get to your seat. No seat belts either. When the pilot went for gold, the pilot slammed the brakes and the aircraft did a 180 degree turn and spun the plane completely around. The plane was facing the direction it had originally came from. As for everyone, they were everywhere. No one was in their original place from when they had boarded the plane. Better it was you than me sis!

Welcome aboard, to fears, flying and bad landings.

Auschwitz

On my travels I was deeply saddened to learn that while a friend mine, Chris was standing in line to enter Auschwitz that there was a group of neo-Nazis bearing their swatstikas on their arms attempting to enter the Auschwitz premises. Much to the distress of others, they were there to pay homage to the work of the Nazi party. They obviously didn't get very far and were escorted out by security. Sad but a true story.

On the other hand, here I was standing in Auschwitz, distraught and deeply distressed by the experience. Even on my way to Auschwitz, I was desperately scrambling to hold my shit together amongst the bus full of people so I would not look like a complete loser and proceed into the ugly cry. It probably wouldn't have mattered as everyone around me fell asleep on the journey there. But there I was, at the edge of my seat watching this video, gripping onto my bag, heart aching, eyes watery and immersed into the screen, learning and watching the ugly truth about Auschwitz. A purpose built facility engineered to exterminate the Jewish race on a full fledged scale. The footage is so overwhelming. I almost threw up.  No joke. And you can never truly appreciate the grandeur of Auschwitz until you have seen a birds eye view and come close to it, face to face. Oh god I was so sick.

When you come to Auschwitz, you can see infinite amounts of clothes, glasses, shoes, locks of hair, personal belongings as far as they eye can see. Where people were kept, how they were tortured and killed. If you haven't seen Schindler's List by Steven Spielberg, I would highly recommend it. It is surprisingly very accurate in terms of the detail of the Auschwitz camp, no part of that death camp was embellished nor glorified for the Hollywood screen.

Being there was easily one of the saddest moments of my life and equally I felt very lucky. Lucky to be living the life that I lead. That I could be fortunate enough to have four months to travel and to experience the world at its best and worst. To have family and friends that I adore, who love me just as much as I love them. To have my health and to even have a job! Get out.

Even though life, at times, hasn't always been too kind to me and I promise you it hasn't, life isn't so bad after all. What I understood in that moment was that, these people that were brought here, lived to die. I've always believed that life should be experienced fully with mind, body and soul. Otherwise, you are simply not living. These people had only their bodies, everything else was forcibly stripped away from them.  And I think it takes moments like these to make you realise, to appreciate and remind us, how fortunate we all really are.

They say, "Silent gratitude isn't much use to anyone", so here I am giving thanks, with arms wide open to all that is good. And I wonder, what are you thankful for?

Welcome to gratitude, to giving and saying thanks.