Pumpkin puree in the UK

It’s really Autumn. There’s no denying it.

I love the crunchy leaves, the crisp air, the smell of hot apple cider. I love the excitement of a new school year, new TV season, and new clothes. I love that the Autumn season is filled with fun holidays like Halloween and Thanksgiving.

But Autumn is not the same without pumpkin. I’m talking carving pumpkin and eating all things pumpkin. I’m talking pumpkin patches and pumpkin festivals. To go through Autumn without pumpkin is just tragic.

While pumpkins are getting easier to find in the UK, canned pumpkin puree still hasn’t quite found its way into the hearts and minds of the British. I know this because if it had the supermarkets would be stocking it like crazy. They’re very good at this consumer behavior business.

In the past, I’ve found Libby’s pumpkin puree in the larger Waitrose in South Kensington. This wasn’t surprising since there seem to be more Americans in Kensington than in the whole of England. When I spotted the cans, there were only a few left and they were stuck randomly by the instant soups. I bought them – even the dented cans. I risked paralysis and possibly death for pumpkin pie.

I haven’t been back to that Waitrose in years so I can’t tell you where to find this year’s dented cans. But I’m here to tell you that there is hope for the rest of us. Pumpkin puree does exist outside the M25.

My local Waitrose is on the smaller side and I don’t think Stevenage is particularly bursting with Americans. But there she was, sitting pretty in the tinned fruit section.

You snooze you lose, Libby. There’s a new girl in town.

Mexican food in London

In an attempt to write about something that’s not as heavy as babies and marriage and my love of vampires (oh, to be that taxi!), I thought I’d write about something equally important but not involving so many feeeeelings. Because this time I’m writing about eating your feelings.

And no better way to do that than with some Mexican food. Who doesn’t feel better after some chips and salsa?

When I was studying here five years ago, it was difficult to find decent Mexican food. The Brits tried. They really did. But it was always a bit off. Even the Old El Paso taco seasoning packets at the supermarket seemed weird. (Curry powder finds its way into so many dishes in this country.)

But I’ve seen the supermarkets’ selection expand over the last few years. Now you can find lowfat sour cream and wholewheat tortillas and guacamole in a jar (which I would never buy but I’m just showing you how much more is on offer these days.)

Sure, they still have the ready-made nachos that they call Authentic Tex-Mex and Crispy Chicken Fajitas that look like something from KFC. And a weird nacho cheese dip from Tesco that is almost entirely mayonnaise. Like I said, they are trying.

We have to keep in mind that a messy kebab after a night out is the British equivalent to a late night run to Taco Bell or the Burrito Buggy (OU students – I’m looking at you). There are great Indian restaurants here – they didn’t know they needed Mexican food.

But I’m happy to report that really good Mexican food does exist in London and you actually have quite a few choices.

Lucky for me and my feelings, I work near a few of these fine establishments where you can get burritos practically the size of your head.

Daddy Donkey

They describe themselves as a “Kick-ass Mexican Grill” and do the “daddy” of burritos, as well as bowls and tacos. I hear they really are kick-ass.

Location:  Leather Lane Market, London,  EC1N 7TE

Freebird

The owner, Carlos, trained at the same culinary institute as the guy who started Chipotle. These burritos are seriously good and taste just like home.

(I couldn’t find a working website for them but follow them on Twitter if you’re one of those people.)

Location: Exmouth Market, Camden, Goodge Street

Beach Burrito (now EatMexicali)

I can’t vouch for this place but I’ve heard good things – they even do breakfast burritos. I’m in.

Location: Notting Hill, Chelsea and Soho.

Tortilla

A small restaurant across from Angel tube station that’s big on taste and value. They seem to understand exactly what “fresh, delicious California-Mexican cuisine” is. More importantly, they use Monterey Jack cheese. I can’t tell you how rare that is.

Location: 13 Islington High Street, London, N1 9LQ

Chilango (used to be Mucho Mas)

I haven’t been here but it looks cute and funky – not a prerequisite for amazing Mexican food but I just thought I’d add that in. They boast “fresh, fabulously tasty Mexican cuisine” and are also near to Angel tube station.

Location: 27 Upper Street, Islington,  N1 0PN

Mestizo

If you’re looking for a truly authentic Mexican menu, try this restaurant. It’s not the type of place you pop in for a take away burrito but it can be a fun night out with friends who appreciate that Tex-Mex is not proper Mexican food.

Location: 103 Hampstead Road, London, NW1 3EL

Wahaca

There was so much hype around this place when it came to London. I admit to being really excited about it too but this was before I knew of all these other places. Wahaca specializes in Mexican street food and I do always enjoy what I order…well, except for the time I ordered a burrito and was put off by all the cabbage stuffed in there. So, I go there for the taquitos and churros instead.

Locations: 66 Chandos Place, Covent Garden, WC2N 4HG and Westfield Shopping Centre, Ariel Way, W12 7GB

Cafe Pacifico

This Mexican cantina does the job as far as enchiladas and chimichangas are concerned. If you’re in Covent Garden, a perfect evening of Mexican goodness would be lite bites at Wahaca followed by margaritas and mains at Cafe Pacifico.

Location: 5 Langley Street, Covent Garden, WC2H 9JA

Taqueria

This “authentic Mexican taco cafe” in West London has a large range of tacos from prawns to chorizo to beer battered fish (I’m not so sure about that one but we’ll go with it). The restaurant is from the same people behind the Cool Chile Co.

Location: 139-143 Westbourne Grove, London, W11 2RS

Cool Chile Co.

For those who would rather make their own Mexican food, Cool Chile Co. has what the supermarkets lack. After a quick scan of their site, I’ll be ordering some fresh corn tortillas and tomatilla salsa. You can order online or visit their stall at Borough Market.

I think this is a fantastic indication of what Mexican food in the UK will be in the future. And if none of these do it for you, have no fear, Chipotle is coming here! They are due to open their first restaurant in London later this year.

(Now, if only I could find some really good queso. Nobody does it like you Austin Grill. I’ll love you forever but please don’t ever redesign your menu again. I almost had a heart attack when I couldn’t find queso under the appetizer section. But you’re right, you know best. It really is a side. It goes with everything.)

I should take up trainspotting

As we turned onto our street, we saw cars lined up on both sides and people gathering by the fence. Our street is usually deserted as we live in a new development and all that’s back there is the train line. 

And that’s exactly what these people appeared to be wanting.

We dashed up the stairs and out on our balcony to see what all the fuss was about. We stood in the freezing cold, waiting. I tried to convince Scott to ask the neighbors what we were all looking at but…well, Scott’s British and he would never do that.

Then we heard the horn and saw this coming our way - the first new mainline steam engine in 50 years.

It was almost as exciting as the time I discovered that Chuck Bass is originally from Stevenage. 

We sure know how to pick the hotspots.

Like rush hour, but fun

It is not uncommon for me to sit across from an impeccably dressed businessman on the train and as I’m opening my magazine, he’s opening a can of beer. Some would say it is the perfect way to wind down after a rough day at the office.

As of June 1, no one is allowed to crack open a brewski on the London underground. This won’t change what I see on my commute since drinking booze is still allowed onboard the overland trains but it has outraged people. Especially since this is the first piece of legislation the new mayor of London has pushed through. Talk about priorities!

About a month ago, we started to see promotional material about the upcoming ban on drinking and carrying open containers of alcohol on the Tube. Soon after, groups started forming on facebook and suddenly everyone was talking about “Last Orders” – a party on the Circle Line the night before the alcohol ban.

We didn’t intend on being part of the celebrations but if you were in London on Saturday night and you were using public transport, you could not have missed the party. And we actually had alcohol on us since we had just come from a BYOB restaurant and we overestimated the amount of alcohol we’d actually drink with our Indian meal. So we passed around our bottles and joined in.

We stood on the platform at Aldgate East and waited and waited for our train. Several trains past, filled with people. And this was the District Line, not even where the party was. Six stations closed due to overcrowding.

What we saw on Saturday night was a true testament to the powers of social networking sites. Sadly as the BBC reported, some party-goers got out of hand and several people were hurt. But for many, it was, as one party-goer said, “Like rush hour, but fun.”

Here are some photos from the night (taken from readers’ photos on thelondonpaper.com and bbc.com)

People dressed up as the new mayor, Boris Johnson:

And a video I took of some action at Aldgate East station before it was closed. What you’re seeing is a packed train and you’re hearing the shouting and screaming of the cocktail party.

Death by roller suitcase

I have certainly enjoyed my time off these last few months. I know I have been very fortunate to be able to take the time to figure out what I want to do and focus on things I enjoy doing. But it did get boring. And I did miss some things about working life. Like my weekly “you earned this” purchase. Spending money on whatever I wanted. The access to shops, bars, restaurants. Seeing people other than the postman, supermarket cashier and Jeremy Kyle. You get the picture. What about having a purpose, you ask? Yes, that too. I also missed having a very good reason not to do the dishes.

I did not, under any circumstances, miss the commute. Most days it isn’t so bad but other than traveling to work, when would I choose to sit in a confined space with weird strangers? Sometimes I sit there and think…what if there is a train crash? A terrorist attack? I don’t want to die with these people!

These people being the ones I see on a daily basis. There are thousands of people who take my train line into London but when you get the same train everyday, you start to familiarize yourself with the other passengers. And since I’ve been gone, some newbies have started taking the 7:46 but I still recognize a lot of them.

There’s the girl who jumps on at my station, spends 20 minutes applying makeup (and sometimes plucking) and emerges at her destination as a totally different person. There’s the suited and booted businessman who reads self-help books. This week it is Instant Confidence: The Power of Positive Self-Talk. There’s the woman with the beautiful red coat – only now it no longer buttons because of her growing bump. And there’s the nose-picker. He’s still around, unfortunately.

There are others of course. It’s always a full train. But even though I remember when the red coat lady wasn’t pregnant and I remember when the businessman wore a wedding ring, I don’t know them and I have never spoken to them. That’s just how it goes. You don’t speak. You read or listen to music or tap, tap, tap away on your laptop. And I’m fine with that.

But it’s the dog eat dog world of commuting that I hate. I dread when the train rolls into Kings Cross station and the doors open…and everyone charges onto the platform, briefcases drawn and handbags as shields. Just getting out of the station is a battle.

And that’s why this time around, I’m sticking to trains and buses. I can’t do the tube again. I tried and it was miserable and I feared for my life. I’m happy to say that my theory still holds true. Men turn into animals when they go underground – no matter if it is down to the basement to watch football or down to the Piccadilly line to trample people on their way to work.

And today it hit me. I realized why nobody talks to each other. Nobody wants to feel any sort of guilt when they knock you down with their roller suitcase on the way to the office.