After having a long night of fun and debauchery with my roommates I woke in the late morning in search of the perfect hangover cure. The sun was out, I had nothing to do with my day and Spitalfields Market was calling my name. I stumbled to the train station and soon found myself at Liverpool Street where my cure awaited. How comforting it was to be surrounded by other hungover folks having a bit of the hair of the dog and eating good street vendor food. Only the biggest and loudest sunglasses would do and the warm weather seemed to really inspire everyone to look their best. There are vendors selling everything from vintage clothes to handmade cards to beautiful screen printed lampshades. I can't even begin to describe all the amazing food that is sold there. Hot curries, homemade crepes and doughnuts, authentic Thai and gorgeous Greek food just to name a few things. The vibe is young and trendy- four out of five hipsters agree, Spitalfields Market is THE place to be seen on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.
After taking a walk around I decided first and foremost I needed to drink a pint at a bar called "The Gun". It was delicious and cold and what made it even better was that I got to take it outside and people watch. My mind kept wondering back this vegetarian Ethiopian vendor I had seen so I tore myself away from my standing post (a second pint was extremely appealing...oh man....it still is appealing....) and go get some food. Five pounds got me an injera bread roll filled with lovely spicy pulses and a side salad of cabbage, greens, potatoes and beautiful shiny olives. I perched myself amongst the crowd and fell in love with the food on my plate. The heat of the pluses perfectly complimented the cool salad and while at first I thought it seemed strange to have olives on my plate, they turned out to be just what it needed. The texture, the flavors...everything worked. As I threw my plate in the trash can I noted my hangover was gone. Mission accomplished. I then wandered around, blatentley took pictures of unsuspecting hipsters and called it a day.
I have never been much of a market/festival type gal. Just ask anyone who's been to the Tomato Festival with me in Nashville. I always ruin the fun by whining about the crowd, making fun of the seemingly pointless crafts and getting irritated with people trying to sell me dumb shit. I am done after about ten minutes and make my friends leave their fun early to take me home. (Sorry Chris) But something about the markets here really do it for me and I think it's mainly to do with the food. I'm currently having a small affair with market food and am loving it. I now stop and ponder the crafts, enjoy the crowd (most of the time) and don't mind when people walk way too slow in front of me. It goes hand in hand with summer in London and I now look forward to the weekends when all the markets are in full swing. So don't be surprised if you see a lot more market food on here. One day I'll stay home and cook but right now, knowing there's a market full of cute hipsters and yummy food out there, I'm out the door in a flash with no regrets.
2 comments:
I had a martini last night on the 19th floor of a place that hast the claimed best view of San Francisco. They were not lying. We were chatting about our martinis and I mentioned that bleu-cheese stuffed olives would make it better. This is when both members of my company said that was disgusting. I mean, really? It hurt a little.
I never get good responses when I mention that's what makes a martini the best. We have refined tastes, Chris. Let's not hold it against them. Remember skol martinis? Classic.
Post a Comment