FED AND WATERED...

It is a well known fact among those close to me that I have an insatiable appetite... for restaurants in Paris. The rolling list keeps rolling and though I feed and water the demand, it is never satisfied.

How convenient then, that a very local, low key restaurant I go to all the time recently changed chefs and happened to employ two of the most happening ones in Paris: Shaun Kelly - former chef at Au Passage and Elenie Sapera, formerly of Bones.

At first, I was horrified at the thought of my little secret becoming not so and of the cobbled rue de Mont-Louis thronging with, I don't know, people who don't live in the furthest reaches of the 11th arrondissement, forming a bawdy, excitable congregation outside; making it impossible for me to slip in for a quiet dinner on a Wednesday night without being in the background of several people's Instagrams. I thought it would change, and I liked it just how it was. I felt almost Parisian feeling this.

But luckily, although the food has changed, it's much for the better and the charming and friendly servers remain, along with the calm and happy atmosphere. They also had the good sense to keep the famous Kate Mousse on the dessert menu - adding Eton Mess as a new option, which I'm told is a direct transplant from Au Passage. The opening hours are still maddeningly confusing/non existent at the weekend - maybe I hallucinated that one time we ate there on a Sunday evening. But the food, ah the food - somewhere I already liked very much raised its food game at least several notches? It couldn't really be a better result. Below, some photos from a recent dinner, where we sat at an outside table during l'heure bleue, which did not turn to night until at least 10.45pm.

The menu was printed on white paper - it was the hour that was blue

Octopus and black radish, bone marrow and fresh petit pois

Rilettes of rabbit and pork sandwich - basically a pulled pork burger.  

So then it was onto a special meal on a special day, at the almost impossible to reserve Septime. I did not make this reservation, but I'm told it involved stalking the online booking system to determine when the advance booking thingy clicked round. (FYI - 0.01 AM.) Septime is, of course, somewhere I had wanted to dine since it opened - named one of the top 50 restaurants in the world and one of the few on that list that has the exact vibe I'm looking for in a restaurant, which I can only describe as natural and luminous. Everything in the place glowed with a kind of healthy, radiant light. Bertrand Grébault looked way too young to be directing the kitchen staff, but direct it he did. We ordered so as to try everything on the menu and everything was sublime. The juicy octopus tail with rhubarb will remain in my memory for many years. (The hot trend in Paris is currently meat or fish paired with fruit apparently.)

Details like the tiny white flowers - maybe they were from some kind of bean? and a single nasturtium leaf were considered, but didn't feel pretentious. The candlelight, flowers, rough wooden tables and the enchanted garden behind the restaurant all added to the feeling of goodness and wellbeing. Can you tell I was very happy to be there? I surreptitiously 'stazzed our meal as it seemed rude not to just concentrate on the flavours:

I had cheese obviously

Sea bream, fromage frais, cucumber, those little white flowers; pink veal with bonito cream and capers

(Amazing) octopus with pepper, rhubarb and green beans

The courtyard garden behind Septime

But my brain, the never ending list... is now saying - we have to go to Clamato next.

GIVERNY...

When I was in Paris last weekend we took a day trip to somewhere I've long wanted to see: Giverny. My grandmother (yes the teapot one) had a beautiful, large framed print of Monet's Japanese Bridge, that I remember not quite understanding wasn't the original painting until I was old enough to realise that this was unlikely. So to see the actual bridge that I grew up looking at in the painting print was a dream.

I seriously didn't know quite what a major tourist destination the home and gardens that belonged to Monet and inspired his paintings were. We thought that by arriving late in the day we'd beat the crowds, but wow, we were wrong. Apparently Giverny ranks up there with Versailles as a day trip for Paris visitors (and it's a fraction of the size) - I had no idea...

The planting of the gardens was beautiful - peonies, tulips, irises and roses out in full force. It was a bit hard to move around - you just had to follow the herd and shuffle forward when you could. When we got to the waterlily pond it was difficult to imagine Monet painting the scene in the serene, calm environment that inspired him for so long - and difficult to take a photo that didn't include two hundred other people also madly taking photos from every angle in the frame. At one point a lady took a photo up my nose. Such was the frenzy. I mention this not to complain, but to give the full experience. I don't think there's a time of day you can go that would not be so busy though. Maybe during winter, but then you'd miss the flowers in bloom and the wisteria which absolutely covers the Japanese Bridge. I somehow managed to take a photo of it that doesn't betray quite how many people were standing on it also taking pictures. I started to wish that brightly coloured gore-tex anoraks and DSLRs were banned and that everyone had been issued with faded linen artists' smocks and panama hats on entry and made to take photos only with vintage or very small cameras; they'd blend in a bit more... In this setting, hell was definitely other people. But if you can't beat them, style them.

Anyway! It was lovely really! I was very inspired by the planting in the gardens near the house. Long beds full of colour and so many different flowers.

Monet's breakfast room

SAD...

This post, featuring photos from Januaries past, is here to state the obvious: January is dark and cold and I don't like it very much. It was pretty stupid making the first month of the year be January wasn't it. Why not May for example? It's not easy staying chipper under these conditions. One of the ways to bear a month you don't like is to make excellent plans for the coming (also not a fave) month, which I've done. But I realised there are a lot of January things I normally do, that I've neglected this year - and that might be why it's just ever so slightly getting me down. Like:

1: Buying beautiful spring-like flowers and having them around the house at all times.
2: Eating cake, doughnuts - whatever helps. Seriously, how is trying to detox helping things?
3: In the same vein, am I really inspired to go running in sleet? Not really.
4: Ticking off the days in your new (green for 2013) moleskine diary and ticking off things you've accomplished, even if it's just collecting your dry cleaning.
5: Not leaving your tax return (due in the UK on 31 January) until the last minute. This is like giving yourself extra intense maths homework when you should be cheering yourself up.
6: Going to a really good exhibition/film/event - not just any old one to pass the time. Something that gets you fired up and inspired.
7: If all else fails, drinking a martini somewhere extremely fabulous with good friends. I'm going to take my own advice.

SERVICES...

It's true, there is inspiration everywhere! This is the view from my favourite brutalist motorway service station 'somewhere in England.' While others dunk biscuits in their tea, text and read the paper at this nowhere land, I gaze out of the window and imagine various scenes of imaginary films being shot here.  It reminds me simultaneously of Twin Peaks and Let The Right One In (original Swedish version obviously) and I could imagine it standing in for some bleak Danish murder scene in The Killing. (Tangent: what do you think about Sarah Lund's new jumper in Series 3? I'm not sure about it.)

It has such a sinister romantic beauty to it, especially in the rain.

I always Instagram the view when I'm there and recently a friend found herself there by chance, sitting in exactly the same seat I'd been sitting in with the same view and recognised it from my photo. Strange things happen there...

ONE MORE...

One more photo from Paris last month, before I resume normal blogging activities. Although, I'm not sure what normal blogging looks like anymore. It's all gone a bit weird, hasn't it? I mean, the internet/blogging side of things. Instagram obviously has a lot to do with that, but as wonderful as Instagram is, I can't write on it. But I don't seem to be writing much here anymore, and I don't want this blog to turn into a list of links to articles I've written elsewhere. Can people even be bothered to read combinations of words that aren't tweet sized anymore? And what will happen if everyone stops blogging and you lose touch with people you were internet buds with? If you're like me, there'll be a core of people you met through blogging that you've become good friends with, some you meet up with once in a while or when you're in each others cities, others you've met once or twice and then a whole swathe of people you're blog friendly with, but who, if they stopped blogging tomorrow you'd never see again and you only know them by their blog name. What about them!? And then at some point in future you'd go wandering round Sydney or Rekyavik or somewhere wondering if you've just walked past their house or are sitting next to them at a cafe they mentioned three years before. Am I the only one who predicts these tragic scenarios?! (I don't follow everyone on Twitter, I hate Facebook and I often don't put 2+2 together with who's on Instagram or Pinterest unless the name is the same.)

 I've been carrying around two rolls of film to get developed for the last couple of weeks - the last months have been so busy in the best possible way, but I feel like I haven't shared much of that here. I might have shared stuff about Paris or Rome, but home sweet home London hasn't got a look in here and that, unbelievably, is where I've been having the most fun. Now I've been stopped in my tracks - first by a pulled neck muscle, now by the grossest, most spectacularly germtastic cold I've ever had. So I'm going to sit here and think about what to do with this blog now, which turned seven years old last week.

THE LOST FILM...

Back in March, I took the first photo below on my Canon AE-1 during my last lunch in Venice at L'Arco. Then probably somewhere between Marco Polo and Gatwick this happened. Eventually I got the camera fixed and set to using up the film here and there over the past month or so. I wasn't sure if the film was ok, and couldn't remember what type was in there. By the time I came to develop the film I couldn't imagine what was on it, apart from the last shot of my neighbour's poppies that I took the other day. The poppies are over now, but for a little while at least, the spot at the end of our gardens was an enchanted poppy forest.

The below pictures have no particular theme,  except welcome back AE-1, my old friend...

MARTEDI TRIPPE AND MR G'S ORANGES...

Whenever I come back from Venice, after first thinking about how I miss my friends, I think about the food I can't eat anymore!

I have a lot of Instagram photos I didn't post on there during my trip - but sometimes it's just not possible to take a photo with the camera (though I have 2 rolls of film to be developed), especially in an exhibition or somewhere you're not supposed to take photos - so I'll be posting those orphan Instagrams here in the next few days.

But first - I'm hungry!

From top: pink grapefruit gelato; spritz in Trieste; porchetta at Da Pepi; a pitstop in Gradisca d'Isonzo for aringa con polenta (they have tripe on Tuesdays); linguine with bottarga; Mr G's oranges on Monday, Mr G's oranges on Tuesday; cicchetto with artichoke and fish eggs; the last spritz.

PEOPLE USED TO BLOG LIKE THIS...

Oh, I have not been here, but I can't really say where I've been. Not because I'm being coy or have been on some kind of exciting secret mission, but because I don't know where the time went and now time has passed so anything I was going to tell you seems so long ago. I can't seem to keep up with myself at the moment, or focus on any of the billion different ideas and projects I have racing around in my head and all the things I have to do.

I will try and remember the past week at least:

A make up artist at Selfridges got me in a chair, then half way through applying blusher to my cheeks told me she was doing a Kate Middleton make up look on me and I couldn't escape.

I had a training session for something voluntary I'm going to do, which is simultaneously very exciting and terrifying.

I visited Laetitia and her cardboard doppelganger in the window of Forever 21 in Oxford Street - they were both in fine form, though one was more animated than the other.

I went to Lauren's new place in Primrose Hill and instructed her in the ways of white sage smudging, which were taught to me by the very wise Elizabeth.

I didn't manage to make it to any LFW stuff I was invited to - sorry everyone - and sorry to people who've invited me to things because if you emailed me in the past week, I probably didn't even reply.

I got obsessed with my new fabric shaver. The Miu Miu coat I was going to give to charity because it was bobbly all over = like new again. My fave Sessùn jumper that I only wore round the house for the same reason = de-fuzzed, like new. I can't believe those crappy looking things work!

I kept putting off renewing my passport because I have such anxiety about surrendering the old one. I imagine someone is going to want to whisk me off somewhere amazing during the time I don't have one. Yep, I am a certified wanderluster. That and there are so many arbitrary rules about it that I've had to fill out the form twice already, because I used the wrong type of black pen. Hate rules.

I lined up next week's Bloggers + Cats interview.

I didn't take any photos with my camera, but lots with my iphone, mostly of food. When it gets quiet here, I'm still always posting stuff on Instagram (@lolaisbeauty) and Twitter.

I got obsessed with having Jamaican chicken soup as much as possible as a cold remedy. The lady in the takeaway refers to me as little girl chile, which makes me happy.

I painted my nails the most high maintenance shade of matte navy, which lasts for about two hours before needing to be repaired. Maybe that's why I can't remember anything else much - it's the fumes.

I failed in buying any even slightly decent non-overpriced/tacky flowers around Valentine's day, so I waited until Friday before buying some lovely veronica stems.

I lost my cashmere hat, immediately bought another one because it was -6 degrees c, then found the old one and by the time the new cashmere one arrived from COS it wasn't cold anymore.

I went to my local farmers' market and saw a very English man wearing an Aztec poncho, a lot of couples wearing sunglasses, a stall that only sold different varieties of potato (I like that one,) my friend bought one oyster and ate it 'to go', I bought a white beetroot and some kale and we saw a ferret on a lead being taken for a walk.

I wrote list upon list and added items to rollover lists that I'd been unable to tick off and felt very bad about it.

3 SECONDS OF 12 HOURS...

The recently opened to the public National Archives garden early yesterday evening. 

At a party at Candelaria later on. Mmm, tacos, mmm weirdly spicy yet cucumbery cocktails.

Somewhere in a mist shrouded northern France early this morning.

CAMEO...

This summer was nicknamed the summer of exploratory boozing - in which - against buffeting rain and wind, last minute calculations of unpredictable bursts of sunshine and frantic weather forecast checking we managed to beat the elements (or just go with them and wear coats) to meet up every so often and have a very convivial time. There was always a drink, and each time it was different: red wine, Aperol spritz, Lillet (both white and red), champagne, tea, (perhaps the weirdest) Fernet Branca, red wine and... we're not finished yet!

Charlotte takes incredible photographs and has become so accomplished at capturing those tiny fleeting moments you want to remember without you even realising. My claw like hands were honoured to play a walk-on part in some of her photos this summer - always clutching a glass of something (some might say a little desperately.)

Where summer started: clinging onto red wine at the Other People's Houses opening.      © Charlotte Bland

Aperol Spritz at Brunswick House - on an almost balmy evening.      © Charlotte Bland

Tea and a little bun at St. John on a rainy day - champagne not pictured.      © Charlotte Bland

Fernet Branca in hand, onset of mild hypothermia at Frank's Argentinean dinner in July.      © Charlotte Bland

And it's not over until we say it is! We'll see the summer off right - my claws are ready, and I'm more than ready for another drink, some good food and good company, somewhere that's not weather dependent.

{All photos © Charlotte Bland - thanks C!}

SERENDIPITY...

A long time ago a good friend who reads this blog said in conversation, "The interesting thing about your blog is you have to work out which parts actually happened and which parts have been creatively invented." Or words to that effect. I went "HUH? No, it's all real, nothing is invented. Everything actually happened!" I know, funny things happen to me: I randomly sit next to and make friends with Jean Paul Sartre's closest confidant on the Eurostar, there are Shetland ponies living behind my London street, I spent childhood holidays being driven about in the sea in a red convertible car. I've had the occasional freak accident, and I got to spend the better part of three years in Paris thanks to a geriatric cat with high maintenance needs. C'est la vie!

I had forgotten about that until I came here to recount the story of last night, when I realised it would sound quite strange. So here it is, exactly as it happened.

It was a beautiful evening and I wanted to do something, just sit outside somewhere with a drink. But most of my friends in London are on holiday, so I was resigned to an evening at home watching the Kardashians. I popped out to my local favourite Turkish restaurant down the street to pick up some taramasalata, kisir and home baked bread for supper. Just a few yards from my house I happened upon two guys I know who are chefs, up one of the trees that line the street, foraging for plums for a dessert they're making for 120 people this Sunday. They reminded me that the preview party for the re-opening of Frank's Campari was happening and told me that the XX and Hot Chip were going to be DJing.

I had totally forgotten about it and although I love going to Frank's in the summer, I often find it difficult to twist peoples' arms into going out for the night to the top of a car park in deepest Peckham. I'm also not very good with large crowds of people. I did vaguely absorb the words 'free drinks' and that someone I also know was working there, but said I might go along later, thinking I probably wouldn't as I carried on down my plum tree lined street. (I think they got six kilos in the end.) Then I looked at the sky and realised I would be an idiot not to go and drink Campari while watching the sun set over London.

When I walked back up the road there was no one in the tree, so I phoned my friend who lives next door, but she was gatecrashing art openings in Cork Street so couldn't come. I didn't have much time to think because if I didn't go there early it would be too crowded. I decided just to go and I would surely find people I knew there. I did find people there - about a thousand of them. I managed to entice Ephemerette into coming via Twitter (and I hadn't even mentioned that the drinks were free!) but of course we never did find each other. By sheer fluke I found my sweet plum foraging friends early on, had a few Camparis and - having regrettably left my camera at home - took a load of iPhone photos of the view. Regard:

So in the end I was pretty glad I'd decided to pop out to get that taramasalata.

{I know Instagram has its detractors, but before I had it I'd almost stopped taking photos completely. In June I took 158 pictures using it and frankly (ha) I love it. I don't know, do people mind me putting those pictures on the blog? I personally don't mind when people do, because I think any picture is better than none, but does it make a difference to you? I've been using the Canon AE-1 but that means posts with pictures from that will be delayed by the time it takes to process the film.}