Story Deli. For pizza hipsters.

Where are all your restaurant reviews? I was asked earlier this week. OH…. I did used to do restaurant reviews, didn’t I… I thought. That was before I dipped my proverbial toe into the office world and my freelance life simply evaporated.

The thing is I DO still need to eat. And I love reporting how much I love/hate those eateries far and wide… but, if I’m really honest, these days I’m reaching for my tracksuit more often than my heels post Small-people bedtime.

However, I plan to eat more (such a good plan). In restaurants you might quite like too. So don’t despair, just yet.

Story Deli Shoreditch

Pizza was on the menu last Friday night. Quite frankly, I don’t think I’ve EVER fantasied about a pizza. BUT everything I had heard about Story Deli (bearing in mind its minimalist, white-washed look is all over Instagram) meant it was high up on my foodie hit list. (Just as soon as I could slip out of that tracksuit.)

Story Deli Shoreditch

So while He and his mates planned a boys’-night-in, I travelled east as quickly as my north-west legs could carry me. And in deepest Shoredich, I found photographer-friend ready and waiting for some much needed cold beer – with hot pizza.

Story Deli Shoreditch

Yes, it’s all about the base. And these wafer-thin bases are just my carb-cup-of-tea. They simply exist to hold the super-fresh, organic toppings. Piled up higher and more delicious than you could ever imagine.

I had heard that you can’t linger in this super cool white hideout. But we properly lingered at the long table with the pizza hipsters. What else do you need to know? Well, you can’t book, the pizzas cost £17 and it would definitely be rude to share. Oh and you need cash.

Right, I’m off to change into that tracksuit.

Story Deli 123 Bethnal Green Road E2

Story Deli Shoreditch

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Oh… HELLO sunshine

IMG_1887_2Oh… HELLO sunshine. We’re very pleased to meet you but did have just a couple of quick questions: Are you here to stay? Or just flirting a little warmth and brightness in our direction. You see, your big, bold entrance needs a little planning. And, if you are in fact here to stay, our winter toes and hibernation legs (ditto working upwards) need to know.

But if you’re going to be gone tomorrow, we can simply relax. Bundled up in lots of layers is the only way we really know how to dress. A hot sun only confuses British fashion and – let’s face – sandals are a minefield to negotiate.

Picnics, BBQs and a freezer full of ice-cream need planning too. Are lunchtime soups already VERY last month? What about sunglasses, umbrellas and that extended scarf?

So while we’re very happy to hear the birds chirping, to walk home in evening light and to feel the presence of a yellow ball of glow in the sky, it’s just that we need to know if you’re teasing. Are you part of some big joke?

Do let us know before there’s a hosepipe ban.

This column first appeared in The Lady where I am their Mum About Town.

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Spring-ing onto the Heath

By nature, I’m an obsessive planner. He often finds my overwhelming desire to plan ahead highly irritating and so I’m trying a new mantra: to plan less and live a little more…to avoid over-scheduling our hyper-planned lives!

So… with some time off work this morning and no school run, I (eventually) managed to persuade the Smalls out of their pjs and onto the Heath to see the sun rise (almost).

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Spring has definitely sprung and the light was amazing for a little early morning snapping.

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which door would you live behind? we voted for the RED one…

 

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a little watering at Euphorium Bakery

 

On the way back a little voice (who’s been watching too much Night at the Museum) muttered: “We’re American, we don’t plan, we DO.

I presume they’re getting the message then.

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mountain trek

It all starts with a …. I wonder if… it’s possible… and how hard it would be….

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And then the fixation kicks off and it is ALL I talk about until the plan is hatched.

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He knows me only too well and sees these mad ideas coming a mile off. Knowing better than to agree with my monologue, He just nods absentmindedly.

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This morning I took one look out of our bedroom window (another overwhelming white-out as we are mid-alpine snow storm here in Solden) and knew today was the day.

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But luckily for Him, I had designs on my PHD-mate. She has been holed up in her hotel room on a paper deadline and yesterday hated her mini-ski in an aggressive blizzard.   Easy prey for an alternative adventure I calculated.

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So the dads headed off with Smalls and skis in tow and we got similarly dressed for our hike up the mountain. The plan was to walk 1000 meters up to a fantastic cabin restaurant called Löplealm from Solden village where we would meet the rest of our gang for a slap up lunch.

We got a little lost towards the end of our mission, resulting in a pretty intensive 2 hour climb up and covering a little over 16k round trip.

The snow fell heavily during both our ascent and decent. It was astoundingly beautiful and deathly silent as backdrop to two friends properly catching up on life, kids, marriage and everything else in between. My mission was to approach the mountain from a completely different angle. Whizzing past on skis you can’t appreciate the deep blanket of snow and those heavily laden trees.

Tonight I can hardly put one foot in front on the other …

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