Originally posted 9th March 2013
So for the last seven days I have rather spectacularly failed to cook or prepare anything from my own kitchen, save for a few gin and tonics and a smoothie. I tend to skip breakfast (I know, I know! Most important meal of the day bollocks and all that, but the only two ways to do breakfast is via American Pancakes or fry-up and accordingly to the BBC the latter *may* kill you unless North Korea gets there first). Lunch is catered for at work, gratis; and rather sumptuously as well (Fish and Chips Friday is a little too good), so that leaves dinner. Trust me, I can make a right mess of dinner.
An evening of burritos, tostadas, frijoles and tequila at Wahaca at South Bank. We didn’t get a table in the window (the restaurant is built out of brilliantly-coloured shipping containers stacked high) so the night was completely ruined.
Wahaca burritos are a little large and I wasn’t up for much eating today, however I did get re-acquainted with the wonders of the bagel. I smothered them with a dodgy-yet-delicious mix of Philadelphia Sweet Chilli and Tesco duck and orange pâté. It has to be said at this point that the ingredients of the pâté are quoted as duck (phew), salt, butter and… marmalade. Classy.
Back to the Tramshed for Sunday lunch. Hix’s East London masterpiece delivered another lump of amazeballs with yet more arse-up chicken, cock-shots and Yorkshire Puds which continue to wage their unrelenting war against gravity. The ever-changing starters presented us with crubeens served with leek; a cut of pork I have never tried before, but by the power of Grayskull I will be trying again.
Christ alive. A trip to Tesco to buy some Radox descended into chaos today when I walked past a shelf full of reduced All-Day-Breakfast sandwiches. One thing led to another and soon I found myself at the checkout, handing over the ‘delicious’ snack, along with a packet of mini-snack-eggs and four Tesco cupcakes – cupcakes which break down barriers in their quest to be the World’s best – and succeed. £1.40 for two. Cue ‘food-so-good-I-could-cry’ moment. And I forgot the fucking Radox.
I walked home from work (to exercise – not out of delinquency). Once back at Chez Carmines, I resisted the temptation to do a number on Domino’s Two for Tuesday, much to the ire of my housemate – instead, I opted for a freshly made banana smoothie and some cereal. Still trying to work out if FroYo is healthy or not. Not even the internet can help.
Walked home again! However, before I set off there was just enough time to dive into the Itsu at Berkeley Square for a duck and pomegranate salad / sandwich which had been recommended to me by someone at work. I added 178 calories for the bread (referenced by their exceedingly and extraordinarily sensible website) and figured by walking home I’ll walk it off. Arrived back at Chez Carmines ravenous and wet, decided to ‘eat’ an Onken biopot which was about as satisfying as sucking an ice cube.
Off I walked, heading home along the South Bank like I have done for the past two nights. Alas I was cruelly coerced into heading to Browns by a mate who wanted;
“…just a light bite to eat, we haven’t caught up in ages!”
We shared a duck flatbread (by which I mean I had four fifths of it and she left the rest), I followed with a steak and she followed with a salad. Now I feel bad and heartburny.
And someone brought Krispy Kremes into work yesterday… the fantastic bastard.