Birthday Celebrations at Beagle

So last week I turned 24! Insert panicked rant here about how time's flying scarily fast, and how I'm in my mid-twenties already (seriously though, how?!)

My birthday fell on a weekend this year, and instead of seeing friends on the actual day I opted for Friday night drinks with my nearest and dearest at Cocktail Trading Co's latest outpost in Farringdon. CTC has long been a favourite of mine for its inventive, delectable cocktails, and I'm glad I chose it for my birthday. It was a perfect space - intimate, but with a specially booked seating area allowing me to buzz around the table, catching up with friends from all the different sections of my life, and quaffing alcohol from snowglobes as well as concoctions garnished with Sesame Street characters. And the best part? Watching my 'normal' friends' jaws drop open in astonishment at the artillery of flashes and cameras that emerged when the drinks were brought to the bloggers' end of the table. Oh man. 

As we all know, drinking must be followed by dancing. We headed up the road to Piano Works in Clerkenwell which, unbeknownst to me, wasn't a cool little bar with acoustic music but an underground club with a live band shelling out pure cheese: Taylor Swift, Oasis, the Christmas classics which have soundtracked every birthday night out I've ever had, and, at midnight, R Kelly's Bump 'N' Grind, requested on a napkin by a friend who knows me far too well. Thanks to everyone who came to the various stages of the evening - love you beautiful ladies (and gents) long time. 

After a hellishly expensive Uber ride home (though not as expensive as that one time I inadvertently took a €300 ride from Pisa to Florence - true story) I woke up on Saturday morning, miraculously hangover-free. At the base of my bed was a veritable Kilimanjaro of presents from my wonderful and thoughtful friends - seriously, Christmas came early for me this year! I spent my day luxuriating in front of Netflix, nibbling on chocolates (about 50% of my presents this year were food-based, of course), and in the evening we headed to East London to celebrate my 24th at Beagle, under the railway arches at Hoxton.

For me, the best birthday venue is always somewhere I've only vaguely heard of (like Ember Yard in 2014), leaving me with an open mind and non-existent expectations. Beagle fit the bill perfectly, and their excellent modern British dishes had me grinning like an idiot. Tout d'abord...oysters! Luscious and juicy (and legitimised by the month ending in R); with these and a glass of fizz in hand, I slipped effortlessly into celebratory mode.

To start: grilled cuttlefish with freekeh (aka my favourite word) and coriander. With full-bodied flavours and a range of interesting textures, this was an instant winner.

Two of us ordered the aubergine, tomatoes and labneh atop griddled bread. The hunks of aubergine were delightfully smoky and almost meat-like. Full marks.

For my sister: a sweet, fresh Dorset crab and chilli salad. 

Mains: roast cod with leeks and mussels (not pictured as it got eaten far too quickly for me to take a decent shot!), roast pork with crackling that brought me right back to childhood...oh, and the T-Bone to end all T-Bones.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever.

Especially when it's accompanied by an exquisitely creamy celeriac and anchovy gratin. 

B and I shared this outstanding aged Longhorn forerib, and even our combined herculean effort barely scratched the surface. We decided to tapau (takeaway) with not even the slightest hint of shame. Meat of this caliber is too good to leave behind! The bonus roast bone marrow was great too, especially when sprinkled liberally with salt crystals and accompanied by a hefty forkful of watercress and duck fat chips.

Second stomach syndrome: Even if you're full to bursting after your mains, there's always space for a little something sweet. Particularly when it's a top-notch Valrhona chocolate mousse with malt ice cream and praline. 

I ordered the innocuous-sounding pistachio ice cream with cardamom biscuit, and the flavours of the ice cream were just that: innocuous, dare I say it, a little bland, the milky sweetness reminiscent of Indian kulfi. (Life is hard when you've had the very best pistachio gelato available in Sicily!) But my oh my, that cardamom biscuit. It seized the mild kulfi flavours and took them on a magic carpet ride. I was so bowled over that I only remembered to take a picture when I was halfway through. 

Thank you to my friends and family for ensuring that I had such a special birthday weekend! I felt incredibly lucky and very loved, and hope that I can reciprocate the favour to you all throughout 2016. Twenty-four years seem a lot (my scrumptious banana and salted buttercream birthday cake was groaning with candles!) and honestly, I feel a bit shocked when I'm telling people how old I am now - it seems like I was 17 just a moment ago. But as one of my good friends told me, it might actually be a number that suits me. Perhaps I'm finally growing up. 24 - I'm ready for you. 

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The Little Yellow Door

A few weeks ago, I met up with the gorgeous Miho for dinner at a house party...of sorts.

We huddled under an umbrella in the freezing February rain outside an unassuming yellow door outside Notting Hill Gate tube station, waiting to be let in.

The hosts had apparently mixed up their dates, but after a few minutes of conferring they allowed us in anyway. 

We climbed a vertiginous flight of stairs, deposited our coats and dripping brollies at the door and entered the apartment.

If you're a blogger or a blog-reader, you'll almost certainly have heard of The Little Yellow Door and its concept. If not, I'll fill you in. This pop-up opens its doors on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays to any friendly revellers keen to hang out at 'the flat' alongside the 'flatmates' - fellow sufferers of Generation Rent who just love throwing house parties. Their newest flatmate, Luigi, hails from Naples, and he's partial to cooking up a full-fledged Italian feast. 

Miho and I, being lovers of Italian food (obviously!) couldn't wait.

We were first to the party (oops) so had the chance to wander around the space taking photos before any other guests turned up. The flat has a charmingly quirky vibe, furnished with mismatched cushions, little Lego models, 90s CDs and DVDs, questionable art pieces and a sofa upholstered in cow hide. 

We broke the ice with a couple of punch-like drinks - sweet and not too strong - and sat down at a coffee table to sip them and chat as the other guests arrived. We opted to stay at our little table, which Miho nicknamed the marriage table, because we were isolated from the rest of the room in our little romantic bubble, rather than sit at the communal tables. Anti-social, yes, but let me tell you why this was a good call: 1) The dinner consisted of sharing plates and so we didn't have to share with lots of people we didn't know. 2) We weren't squashed in on the benches - instead, we had complete freedom to get up and walk to the bar or the bathroom without having to disturb hordes of other diners. And, best of all...

3) Our little coffee table had the best lighting conditions in the flat - unlike the main tables, which I hear were rather dimly lit. Bloggers 1, rubbish lighting 0.

We perused the various menus (a choice of bar cocktails can be found in the numerous magazines that litter the flat!) and ordered some red wine to go with the meat-laden courses to come.

First course: a lovely sharing platter of antipasti. Smoked beef carpaccio with a mustard dressing and capers, burrata with mint pesto, tomatoes and aubergine, and prosciutto garnished with peach, basil and almonds. Interesting flavour combinations that actually worked and were rather delicious, even though I would have preferred a slightly plumper burrata. I have high expectations of cheese...

More antipasti - mushroom and asparagus arancini nestled on a bed of truffle and porcini mayonnaise. Absolute heaven. It was at this point that I found out that Miho doesn't like mushrooms. It was almost a friendship dealbreaker - but luckily, she polished off her arancini (arancino?!) and all was forgiven.

I loved our primi course - a spiced duck ragú tagliatelle. Seriously, I could have shoved Miho out of the way and gobbled all of this down myself. 

The secondi was also buonissimo - belly porchetta served with caponata, pickled baby veg, capers , sultanas and pine nuts.

The perfect amount of food for a Friday evening.

A couple of the flatmates came over to chat to us about the concept and told us about how in an ideal world, they'd love to open a few more colours of Little Doors across London - and a Little Black Door in New York. And this dude was very impressed with Miho's camera.

Dessert was served at the bars - reminiscent of the little canapés one puts out at a dinner party. 

Sicilian cannelloni of sorts with pistachios, a sticky pine nut caramel tart with marsala raisins, and a fairly alcoholic-tasting chocolate and tiramisu pannacotta in a mini jar! Teeny enough to not feel too indulgent...

I made up for the tiny dolci with this gigantic fishbowl of a cocktail - recommended to me by the hosts after I expressed a penchant for gin and fruit. Honestly, I think it was about the size of my head.

Miho, meanwhile, had a much more refined-looking tazza di tè - Earl Grey-infused gin with lemon and egg white, accompanied by a Jammie Dodger. This one looked polite but had a lethal sting.

After this point the tables emptied out to create much more of a living room party vibe, the music was cranked up and more guests started arriving for Friday night dancing. Things got a little bit hazy, and a few pink-faced selfies may have been taken...

I was very pleasantly surprised by the delicious food and drinks on offer at The Little Yellow Door. You know me - I absolutely love a unique concept, and the house party one here was definitely creative  enough for me to have a wonderful Friday night in excellent company. And funnily enough, I ended up right back at TLYD the very next Friday for a friend's surprise birthday party (therefore experiencing just the drinking and partying aspect of the night). Several milk and cookies cocktails later (yummy and lactose-free - win/win!) I was convinced that TLYD is perfect for those who want to have a drink with their friends in a homely location without the hassle of having to tidy up the next morning. Thank you very much for having me over twice, flatmates - I had a great time!

Disclaimer: The dinner and drinks Miho and I enjoyed at TLYD were complimentary. All opinions remain my own. 

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