Good coffee is hard to find. Despite popular belief, good coffee is not found in Starbucks et al. Truly good coffee hides in nondescript bistros near zone 2 tube stations, or in tiny cafes tucked away in side streets. I wouldn’t have found the Hummingbird Cafe had it not been for the charming white bicycle parked on the corner of Oaklands Grove and Uxbridge Road. The small, independent cafe offers something quite different from the high street’s assortment of kebab shops. I sat outside and ordered a cappuccino.
What is a good cappuccino? I used to work in an Italian restaurant where not even the Italian staff could agree amongst themselves. Maurizio insisted on minimal foam but lots of chocolate; Andrea was adamant that the milk must be steamed to an exact temperature and the ratio of milk to foam in the cup should be 2:1. The Portuguese Freitas served his with a mountain of chocolaty foam, at which the Italians shook their heads and tut-tutted. I don’t know what the Hummingbird’s secret is, but their cappuccino is perfection: a layer of rich foam sprinkled with chocolate, and delicious, freshly espressed coffee. The cafe’s mantra is ‘simple food, made with love’, (the menu includes mouth-watering options for breakfast, lunch and dinner) and the mantra certainly extends to their coffee. Highly recommended!
given me blisters
all I did was walk!
put a plaster on.
you tore up that picture
into neat little shreds
dropped them on the floor
i spent the day
taping it back together.
you smashed that clay bowl
hand-painted from Tunis
I spent the night
with a bottle of glue.
I met Love himself
and he stayed awhile
just long enough
and before he left to find himself
he helped himself
to a generous piece of my heart.
now it’s bleeding all over the place
like a chicken with the head cut off
put a plaster on.
image from bristol-street-art.co.uk
I just found these old pictures I took when wandering around my lovely Warsaw a couple of years ago. This was a boarded up shop in the centre of town, somewhere off ul. Chmielna. I don’t know if this is some kind of tasteful graffiti or if it was actually an advertisement for contact lenses (but if I wore contacts I wouldn’t go to this place, even as a last resort!). Either way, I like it. It’s so DIY and untouched by the airbrush-wielding hand of Western commercialism.
One of my favourite objects from the Museum of Broken Relationships in Covent Garden’s Tristan Bates Theatre: a mixtape from this girl’s ex entitled ‘Life Without You’. There’s something so Napoleon Dynamite about it. He stuck a random picture of himself on the cover, even though it’s not his music on the tape. I LOVE IT! Especially because I used to make mixtapes ALL the time when I was a teenager. And not just with music. My friends and I would record ourselves talking in stupid voices then listen to it and laugh our asses off. Life without tapes is not as cool.