What to do in London this weekend – a tour of London’s street art

If you’re stuck for something to do this weekend I recommend you head on down to East London for one of the capital’s street art tours. Over the past few years Shoreditch has become a hub for street artists from around the globe, with painters and graffitists from the US, Australia, Chile, South Africa, Mexico and more traveling here just to leave their mark on Shoreditch’s dirty hoardings.

Paste-ups, stencils, bombing and tagging, this was a world I was entirely unfamiliar with when I went on my first walking tour of East London’s street art highlights. And although I’ve walked past a lot of street art in my time, often stopping to admire it, I knew nothing of the artists or the techniques used to produce it.

Our guide for the day was Dave, of Shoreditch Street Art Tours, which sets off every weekend from the goat statue by Spitalfields Market (you read that right, there’s a statue of a goat in E1, people voted for it to be made and everything, but then people voted for Brexit).

The tour takes around 3 hours, with a quick break for lunch, which gives you an idea of just how much artwork there is to see in this part of town.

On the difference between street art and graffiti

Our tour guide Dave, (who has been hanging out with and getting to know the artists working in this area for over a decade) had an interesting take on the difference between street art and graffiti: he said while street artists make their work for the public to appreciate, graffiti artists (the type who create tags) only make graffiti for each other – they don’t care what we think.

But is it art?

Short answer: yes. That doesn’t mean you have to like it of course. Beauty is, after all, in the eye of the beholder. And street art is different: impermanent, irreverent, often political and sometimes ridiculous, I think what I love most about street art is that it completely inhabits the places it is created in, interacting with and sometimes having fun with the urban environment in which it sits. Such as this example:

Tour highlights

So, on to the highlights. In no particular order, the artists whose work I enjoyed most on the tour were as follows:

Conor Harrington

First up is a piece by Conor Harrington, an Irish graffiti artist and painter living in London. We saw two examples of his work on the tour, the first on Fashion Street. Painted way back in 2012, our guide said that it’s a sign of respect that no one else has painted over  it yet. Apparently, Conor paints freehand with a brush straight onto the wall, using some of his old graffiti tricks to achieve effects such as the paint dripping, which we can see in the picture below:

This mural, which can be found on Hanway Street was completed in 2008, and, like the one above, has survived well, apparently because it’s too high to reach for most.

Mr Cenz

Mr Cenz’s work was absolutely one of the highlights of this tour for me. His portraits are done completely freehand using spray paint on top of a prepped wall. This man owns his walls.

His can control makes most people’s tags looks like sh*t.

Look at this signature:

Seriously, I know nothing about graffiti, but even an idiot like me could see this was a master at work. Looking at the fading and edging on this:

Otto Schade

Another piece I loved was this stencil, created by the Chilean artist, Otto Schade.  Much of his work apparently deals with political themes, and we saw several examples of his work on our tour.

Faith47

One of the few female street artists whose work we saw, South African born Faith47 painted this on the Old Truman Brewery gates on Hanbury Street. From what I recall, I think this was done freehand using spray paint (look at the drips) and paint and brush work as well.

Fanakapan

The chrome balloon bubbles by the artist Fanakapan were another highlight for me. I think I took this picture in an alleyway just off Brick Lane. This was created using just spray paint. Hyper-realistic and amazing.

Roa

The work by the Belgium born artist Roa was another major highlight (I know, I know I keep on saying this, there were so many on this walk, it’s not my fault). Mostly known for his larger-than-life black and white animals, many of his pieces take days to complete, so are usually done with the wall owner’s permission. According to our guide, this mural started off life as a heron (which is considered bad luck by some in the Bengali community). It was therefore quickly modified into a crane, which is considered an auspicious creature. Crisis averted and urban surroundings respected.

Phrases I learned:

Knowing nothing about the street art and graffiti scene, I collated a list of the phrases our guide used during the tour, and which I have endeavoured to drop into conversation with East London hipsters even since. Here are a chosen few below:

Wheatpasting, or paste-ups

Named after the adhesive which fixes them to the wall, wheatpastes are put up in a three stage process: first the area gets covered with paste, then the artist unfolds the drawing/painting they’ve brought with them onto the wall. After smoothing out the paper and dabbing on another layer of wheatpaste, voilà the wheatpaste is done.

These were apparently much loved in the early days of street art, when artists were mostly operating without the permission of the owner whose walls they were decorating (the fast application of the wheatpaste allowing for a quick getaway).

The result is also sometimes called a paste-up:

Being able to bring your already made drawing with you also means the artist can spend all the time they want back home perfecting their piece, resulting in some intricately detailed work.

‘Uncurated’ walls

An ‘uncurated’ or ‘wild wall’ as our tour guide called it, is a wall with no single piece dominating it. Covered in layer-upon-layer of paste-ups and graffiti, a wild wall has its own archeology, with artists tending to go over others’ work, sometimes resulting in  feuds, as one artist repeatedly puts their work over another’s.

Stencils

This is an art form that makes use of stencils made out of paper or cardboard. This makes the piece of work easily to replicate on wall after wall, allowing for maximum coverage in a minimum amount of time (useful if you’re lacking in certain permissions). The desired design is cut out and then transferred to the wall with normal paint or spray paint.

Stencils aren’t always just black and white either. Below is a stencil by the French  artist C215 for example:

Interactions and interventions

This is an example of an ‘interaction’, where 4 different street artists have added to the work of those already on the wall they are working on. In this example, Endless put the Coke can up, Himbad followed it up with one of his trademark genies and Noriaki added in his mono-eyed flying alien, with an unknown artist adding their cloud on top.

By contrast, an intervention is when an artist deliberately goes over another’s work, Banksy and King Robbo’s interventions on each other’s work being a famous example of this.

Characters

This is when an artist decides to associate themselves with a particular character or picture. Noriaki for example makes the little one-eyed number below, while Himbad has spray painted the little genie monster next to it. This noir man is also a character, but for the life of me I can’t remember who it’s by:

Tags

These are the graffiti artists’ bread and butter. Like I mentioned before, they are made primarily to impress other graffitists due to the skill level involved in creating them, or the location of their placement. Our guide was at pains to tell us that graffiti lettering is not made with the public in mind: we aren’t the audience for this work, other graffiti artists are.

Legal walls

These are walls where the artist has the permission of the wall owner to create their artwork. As street art has gone mainstream, people have also started to commission artists to create big murals. This piece, by the Australian artist Jimmy C, was commissioned by the owner of the cafe Joe’s Kid, in memory of their grandfather (if I remember correctly). Painted in his signature point and drip style, using a spray can, this piece can be found on Fashion Street.

Legal walls are important because they mean an artist isn’t under pressure to rush a piece, and the growing popularity of the legal wall has allowed street artists to expand the size and complexity of their murals for our benefit.

Collaborations

Sometimes the result of a commission, the example below is by Elian Chali and  Alexis Diaz, and took three days to complete. Which shows you what you can do when you have a legal wall.

Stickers

Easy to mass produce and distribute and quick to place, a sticker is a really effective way to spread an image or brand quickly. This means they show up everywhere.  This one was designed by Shepherd Fairy, but, in the spirit of the sticker, could have been placed by anyone.

Other artists worth mentioning

Noriaki

Known for his mono-eyed little alien characters, I found that once you notice one of these buggers, they start to appear everywhere. On your way to brunch, as you dash out for your hipster coffee, on your way back from getting your beard trimmed and oiled (these are things I imagine hipsters do). These are just some that I’ve spotted in the few weeks since doing the tour:

Spotted on route to a vinyl shop:

On my way to a restaurant near Brick Lane:

And on my way back from my weekly beard trimming:

Neoh

A graffitist previously known for his graffiti bombing take to tagging, Neoh’s impressionistic dancers are really quite special, and definitely aren’t put up with permission, which I like.

Gregos

Gregos, a French artist who grew up in Paris, is best known in London for the sculptures he makes based on casts of his own face. Again, once you see one, they start popping up everywhere.

Costah

Nuno Costah, a.k.a Costah is a street artist and tattooist  from Portugal. His characters of choice are a series of cartoon birds, put up as a wheatpaste.

City Kitty

Hailing from New York, City Kitty is known for his psychedelic art, as well as his, ahem, city kitties:

Endless

Endless is a prolific British street artist known for his paste-ups and for the sending up of well known logos and brands.

And after the tour…

More:

And more…

And more of these:

Everywhere:

Every, freaking, where:

Plus this guy too:

What: Shoreditch Street Art Tours

When: 10am everyday

Meet-up point: Goat Statue, Brushfield Street, London

Tacos at El Pastor Review, London

Needing to score a proper taco hit after the disappointment of Temper, I headed to Tacos El Pastor this week.

A short walk from London Bridge, and located next to London’s overrated Borough Market, Tacos El Pastor is London’s latest offering at the alter of Mexican cuisine and is the brainchild of Sam and Eddie Hart (the brothers behind Barrafina and Quo Vadis) and their business partner Crispin Somerville.

Having been burned by my earlier experience in the week, I braced myself for disappointment. Also, I’m totally over having to wait an hour on a Tuesday night for a meal, because a place doesn’t take bookings. El Pastor is such a place. The omens didn’t look good. I readied myself for the inevitable. I didn’t need to. I. LOVED. IT.

A highlight: the Al Pastor, 24-hour marinated pork, cooked on the restaurant’s upright trompo grill, topped with guacamole, onion and a sprinkling of coriander

One word of warning though. Tacos El Pastor doesn’t muck around here. Tacos are the main order of the day. It’s in the title. And, judging by some of the disappointed sounds I heard being made over the desserts, it’s what you should focus on if you decide to eat here.

First impressions

By some miracle there was no queue when we got to the restaurant (because we got there 15 minutes before it opened? Maybe). On arrival, we were greeted with a selection of in-house salsas, freshly made on the day, which ranged from hot to deliciously hotter and which we ate with the restaurant’s signature chicharrón, or pork scratchings.

The seafood

There were so many highlights to this meal it’s hard to know where to begin. First off was the stonebass, a generous serving of light, fresh, flaky fish, which had been finished with a gentle smoking on the barbecue (not too heavily applied), then draped in avocado. Anyone who eats fish in London knows how wrong this can go. El Pastor shows you how good seafood can be when it goes right (this is me reluctantly admitting that being located next to Borough Market’s fish sellers can have its upsides).

Also worth noting were the prawns. Flavoursome, and treated delicately on the grill, they were meaty and smokey and just as prawns should be. They could have been over-cooked on the barbecue, they could have been overwhelmed by the salsa and other flavourings. They weren’t. They were perfect. We ordered these, then immediately asked for more.

The meat

Then there was this. This rich and soft hunk of slow cooked marinated short rib, just falling off the bone and into my mouth. This did not last long. You can also see it was accompanied by a not too sweet pineapple salsa, which acted as a good balance to the crunchy pickle it came with. Loving the mix of textures here.

Look at this, this is how quickly the food went at our table. This was the ‘choripapa’, a taco with chorizo and potato, topped with salsa verde and white onion. One of so many good dishes that evening.

The tacos

God these were good. For one, they actually tasted like corn (here’s looking at you Temper), were pliable, the right size and made in-house. The only downside to them was that, being handmade, it seemed to take an age to get any of them, especially as the restaurant doesn’t provide enough of them for some of their dishes, such as the carnitas.

The drinks

These took surprisingly long to arrive, but were good when we got them – I ordered the mezcal, which came neat with a side of orange, which, as a mezcal novice, I found novel (think tequila with lime, only classy, tasty and oh so smokey).

Round two

Like fools, we missed one of the restaurant’s signature dishes on the first pass, the aforementioned carnitas – a dish of confit pork and lashings of chicharrón.

On our second pass we therefore ordered it. It promptly arrived in hands of a man who declared he’d been researching how to make the perfect taco for the last 20 years, and that he could show me how.

It was, and remains, the best taco of my life. Starting with the sauce it arrived with, my mysterious taco-maker drizzled my blue corn tortilla in salsa espécial, added a generous dollop of meat, layered on an additional chilli salsa from our table’s collection, gave it a squeeze of lime, then finished it off with a sprinkling of crumbled chicharrón.

It was perfect.

The pork was deep and rich, marinated in goddam brilliant something (he said something about a range of spices, achiote, something, something, orange juice) – its smoky richness balanced beautifully by the sharpness of the lime and the hit of the spice, and given texture with the addition of crunch from the chicharrón. Even the memory of it makes me weep because it was so delicious and I hate queuing so much. Also, the bloke happened to be Crispin Somerville so what taco will ever taste this good again?

The ambience

The service was friendly and everything you want in terms of knowledge of food and attentiveness. Alas, the speed of the meal was slightly sluggish, though this wasn’t the fault of the wait staff. Of note too was the fact that not all the seating looked as cosy as ours. In Spanish style, some diners ate standing at the bar, but I also noted some less happy folks behind me who were forced to perch rather awkwardly on a set of high chairs they kept falling from.

But these are the musings of a person who could find no fault with the food.

I loved this place. True, it’s unlikely that every trip here will be accompanied by one of the owners drizzling confit pork onto my corn tacos, but it’s a welcome addition to the London food scene.

At last this town is getting Mexican food right. I welcome it.

Address: Tacos El Pastor, 6-7A Stoney St, London, SE1 (walk-ins only)

Website: https://www.tacoselpastor.co.uk/

Tacos at Temper, London, a Review

In the spirit of the New Year I decided to try two taco-heavy restaurants this week, Temper and Tacos El Pastor, both of which are being hailed as the hot new ‘tacos and meat’ places to eat in London. But …

Columbia Road Flower Market

There’s a reason why people go on about the classics. Whether it’s the Godfather Part 2 or really good apple pie, there’s a reason why the same films (and desserts) are recommended time and again. They’re just that good.

The same goes for Columbia Road Flower Market in East London.

Just because everyone from your mother to the neighbour’s dog has recommended it on their list of ‘top ten things to do in London’ since before top ten lists were invented, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go visit it yourself immediately.

Columbia Road Flower Market is a classic, and one of the few ‘must visit’ London destinations that hasn’t yet been ruined by its status as an awesome thing to do in the capital, the way Borough Market (no, just no) or Camden Lock (multiple piercings and a tattoo? You rebel) has.

Based in East London, and a short walk from either Old Street or Liverpool Street tube stations, there has been a market of some sort in existence on Columbia Road since 1869.

But what’s so great about this place, you ask?

Reason 1: It’s not all about the flowers

Even if everything you attempt to grow turns to ash, Columbia Road Flower Market is the perfect Sunday outing simply for the joy of walking there. Surrounded by the cafes, bars and independent shops of Old Street, Brick Lane and Shoreditch, just taking a stroll to the market itself can be an experience. From the emerging street art scene, to Boxpark’s pop-up mall and nearby weekend food markets, you don’t need to be a horticulturalist to enjoy simply being in the area.

Even if you get lost, all you have to do is follow the reverse trail of people struggling down the road: hobbled by armfuls of bamboo saplings, or trying to balance a pile of orchids and a full-grown lemon tree on front of their fixed-gear bike, the hipsters of East London will show you the way.

Reason 2: It’s all about the flowers

So, I lied about reason 1: it is all about the flowers. If you’re in the market for any kind of flowering thing, plant, or even tree, Columbia Road Flower Market is the place for you. Things here are cheap. Where a dozen roses of unbelievably God-awful quality would set you back by £50 easily elsewhere in London, on Columbia Road you can get them for around £15 if you’re willing to look around and have a chat to the vendors.

Even if you don’t want to buy anything, the market is worth a visit just for the experience of being in it. An amateur photographer’s dream, I had a ball just walking through it and enjoying the fact that the place practically breathes colour.

For those who do want to buy a plant or two, the market tends to sell a couple of things all year round – herbs, of both the usual (rosemary, oregano, basil) and unusual (Moroccan mint, peppermint, lemon balm) kind as well as succulents, which are hard as anything to kill, so are a great option for those that tend to murder their plants just by looking at them.

At other times of the year, the things on offer will vary. Summer tends to be lavender and fruit tree selling season along with the usual suspects (roses, tulips and other hothoused things) that are grown and sold all year.

This time round (by that I mean last weekend) the market was awash with pansies, camellias, daffodils and bulbs, which makes sense given that it’s Spring.

Despite being something of an institution, the market is also changing with the times, or rather in response to its changing clientele (by that I mean bearded men on fixies). There are now more exotic plants on offer than ever before – orchids, the big fat red things above that I bought for a tenner (a tenner for five of them; which seemed like a lot until I got home and realised I couldn’t even fit two of them into a vase, and had to split them up and put them in spaghetti jars, see right), and other things I have no name for because I grew up in a city and struggle to tell the difference between an oak and a snowdrop.

Despite this terrible sign of gentrification, prices for plants are still good. Although the orchids may be a sign of the changing times, they were still on sale for £4 a plant, a whole blooming plant (see what I did there?). Which is amazing, so I bought two.

Reason 3: There’s tea, and cake

I feel like there shouldn’t need to be any elaboration on this point, because tea and cake is like the top trumps of any studied argument. But for those who want to know more, I would recommend the following: if you find yourself in need of a bracing drink before entering the crush of the market, Cafe Columbia does a mean hot chocolate; Cake Hole has a lovely seating area (see below) and an excellent selection of cakes, coffees and teas, while its sister shop, Vintage Heaven, sells a mad selection of teapots, plates and vintage furniture and nicknacks.

Reason 4: The vendors

These guys are amazing. Loud, rambunctious, and totally hamming it up for the crowds, although you may struggle to see anything through the throng of people elbowing you in the gut, you’re guaranteed to be able to hear these guys (and gals) selling everything for a tenner. Chatty and confident, don’t be afraid of offering them a deal on the things you want to buy, they’re usually willing to knock a few pounds off if you’re about to buy a multiple (i.e. more than one bunch or plant) of anything.

When to go

I know, I know, having read my stunningly lucid arguments in favour of visiting this East London gem, you’re already halfway out the door, CityMapping the fastest way to get there. But before you go planning your trip, bear in mind that the market is only open on a Sunday.

But when is the best time to get there I hear you ask? Personally, although the market is open from 8am, I reckon the best time to go is near closing, which is anywhere from 2:30pm onwards.

This is when the bargains begin in earnest. My advice is to look for the plants that won’t hold out until the next week – such as flowers, or blossoming plants that are close to going over. This kind of stock needs to shift quick, and vendors will likely start to shout out discounts for them as they near the end of the market without you trying. Plants, trees and topery on the other hand will hold out from week to week. Since cut flowers that have already opened won’t be good to sell even the next day, market sellers will want to shift all of them before they go. I bought these flowers (originally £12 a bunch) for £5, just by waiting until the stall was nearly sold out. So it pays to wait.

Bear in mind that completely open flowers, though they look pretty on the day, won’t last as long as closed blooms, so be picky if you can. The market can also get really crowded, which some people find harder to cope with then others. If you have sharp elbows like me, it isn’t a problem, but don’t forget to watch out for pick pockets in your rush to get the best bargains.

How to get there

As I said, the market is a short walk from either Old Street or Liverpool Street tube stations. Shoreditch High Street on the Overground is also a short distance away.

I’ve even embedded a map (that’s a big deal for me) so you can see where it is.

And that’s it really. Let me know in the comments section if you have any questions, and here are some spare photos I took on the day:

Why your partner going away for a bit can be an awesome thing

My boyfriend went away this week. Instead of feeling sad and glum about this, and allowing myself to think about how he will be absent from Halloween and other pumpkin-based activities, I have decided to write about how people going …

International Lady of Mystery

Last month, Anna Roberts very kindly nominated me for the Versatile Blogger Award. But, like a super-mysterious mysterious person I didn’t respond/thank her for my blogging Grammy (I know it’s not a Grammy, but let me pretend it’s a Grammy. Not a Daft Punk Grammy mind, a Beyoncé one).

Some may have speculated that my blogging absence was the result of laziness, but real conspiracy theorists would have known better.

And as all good ex NSA contractors know, the conspiracy theorists are always right. I haven’t been lazily sunning myself on a beach (OK I may have actually done this), eating, taking pictures, but not uploading my thoughts on new restaurants such as Gymkhana, Ronin and Hutong (I may or may not have done this too, but also) I have been writing, in secret, elsewhere on the web. On my very own website, which I set up with a group of 10 other talented ladies, called 11andmore (because there are 11 of us, and yes, that hyperlink is a hint for you to check it out, so check it out!).

To make matters worse, my posts for the site haven’t even been about food (controversial). To give you a taste, and to let you know what I’ve been up to, here is one that went out this week, below (cue drum roll, fanfare, etc. etc.).

The Pornification of Society

Por-ni-fi-ca-tion, noun, /pɔːnɪfɪˈkeɪʃ(ə)n/

The increasing occurrence and acceptance of sexual themes and explicit imagery in popular or mainstream culture: the growing pornification of our society.

Last year, the Leopold Museum in Vienna held an art exhibition. Not a surprising act in itself, given that this is what museums tend to do, but the Leopold got into some serious trouble for it. This is because ads for the show, “Nude Men from 1800 to Today” featured nudity. Not female nudity, but male. The flood of complaints was unprecedented, and ended with the Museum censoring ads for the exhibition in response.

In retrospect, some of the images used by the Leopold to advertise the exhibition did shock the eye, and rightly so, the men were after all entirely nude: but why then do their female equivalents not do the same?

In almost any town in the US, UK or elsewhere the semi-nude female is on display. And they are not posed as Renaissance marbles; they are provocative, sexualized, and young. The Austrian response to a single male nude should be a timely reminder to us that not all sexual images are treated the same.

It is only when you really start to look around you that you realize how warped the portrayal of women in public spaces has become. Partly clothed, or in poses denoting their sexual availability, pornographic images of women are everywhere: from on-street advertising, to newspapers, the sides of buses and YouTube, sexualised images of women are being used to sell anything and everything.

Whether chocolate, deodorant or water, in order to sell it the default position now is to put a semi-naked women on it. Whether or not you think that partly dressed lady is relevant to fitness hydration or hair-washing (I’m thinking not) it is no longer an odd thing to see a picture of a woman lying down and having an orgasm in order to sell you the absolutely most mundane thing you could imagine, like a pair of woolen tights.

And I am shocked. Really I am. Because pictures of teenagers in see-through-nipple-showing-tops and that lingerie ad on the 205 bus are boring to me. And when I look at them again they shock me because they do not shock me.

The Guardian, and politicians such as Diane Abbott have called it the ‘pornification’ of society, and so it is. Although we may hesitate to talk about it, our private consumption of explicit imagery has brought porn into the heart of mainstream life.

From the grooming of private parts a la the Brazilian, to vajazzling, boob jobs and labia surgery, trends that began life on porn sets are now examples of how public perceptions of beauty have been shaped by a porn-influenced aesthetic.

While porn and its attendant images have made their way into public spaces, it is society’s relative blindness and compliance toward such imagery that should concern us. In some quarters thankfully, people are starting to notice. In the US for example, the Hawkeye Initiative has drawn attention to the issue with humour and grace. By reimagining well known images of female comic book characters as the male super hero Hawkeye, members of the public have been able to highlight the casual, often ridiculous, way in which females have been depicted for public consumption.

In the UK too, last year saw the launch of the No More Page 3 campaign, a movement aiming to bring an end to the use of topless models on the pages of the UK newspaper, the Sun. At the same time, the Everyday Sexism project in Britain is doing much to highlight the daily objectification of women in public places.

Pornification is Shaping Attitudes in Young People

Despite these gains, as a society we still need to acknowledge a well-known truth: porn is no longer the stuff dads hide under the bed.

It is everywhere, even if we won’t talk about it, and it is being accessed by the increasingly young. Because of the ease with which porn can be found, Australian research now indicates that the average age at which children first watch it is 11 years old.

Although not all porn is bad, a lot of it really isn’t good. Whilst some of it is generic and repetitive, guilty of perpetuating myths about sexuality and pleasure, some of it is extreme and degrading. At its worst, porn has been known to warp some people’s ability to be with a partner in the real world. But these are just the effects porn has been known to have on adults, people who are already sexually experienced and who grew up out of the gaze of new media.

What then for children growing up now? At a time where standards in sex education are falling and funding for schools being cut, what effect is this wash of imagery having on the attitudes of young people with no prior knowledge and no experience to draw on to help them negotiate this mire? While sex has never been so out in the public eye, our prudish approach to talking about it in schools, public spaces and with our children is having harmful and lasting effects on young people.

The Internet: an Accelerator

The learning ground for children is now the internet and via social media, and it is these communicative technologies that have accelerated the rate at which the objectification of women and girls is happening. Indeed, Apps such as Snapchat, BB messaging and Youtube are helping to fuel the creation, sharing, ranking and display of explicit images amongst children, even at primary school level.

Last year, an NSPCC report found that the majority of sexting reported by 11 and 12 years olds was made under coercion from peers.

In many ways, the pace of our inventiveness with new technology has outstripped our ability to handle it thoughtfully. It has led to a position where young people are under an unprecedented amount of pressure to conform to hyper-sexualised ideas of how the sexes should behave. But while teaching unions have warned that children as young as 9 have been asked to perform sexual acts on their friends in the playground, there is still something of a culture of silence around the discussion of sex with young people.

Where to now?

Sadly, porn is not a truthful depiction of the erotic. It is also, infamously, not well geared towards female desires. In making sexual imagery so ubiquitous I fear we have taken something away from sex.

My issue with much of the pornified imagery and media surrounding us now is its sameness. In sharing and spreading globalised  norms of beauty and behaviour, much consumer driven sexual imagery is now fairly banal. In moving towards this homogeneity of appearance and behaviour we have robbed sex and sensuality of something of its specialness. At the heart of it I fear the ever presence of such images, coupled with our reluctance to talk about sex is bequeathing on a generation of young people more transactional attitudes towards the sharing of bodies, coupled with more insecurity as to how they should look and behave.

Whether internet porn or perfume ad, some of the images we are exposed to are at times too explicit, too immediate, and too easy. Porn is not an unmitigated evil, but it has taken something of the subtly and wonder out of some of our most intimate acts.

And if all we know of sex is what we are shown on billboards and porn sites than we will be a poorer society indeed.

Five Guys and Shake Shack Come to London

Move aside afternoon tea obsession – there’s a new mania in town – and it likes BURGERS.

Yes, in the past week I have side-stepped my sweet tooth and fallen for the meaty, meaty taste of the trendy burger joint.

More socially acceptable than McDonald’s, and cooler than a hipster with a beard, riding a tandem bike (yes, this picture exists), a new breed of burger bar has taken over London in a flurry of rosemary salted chips and cajun flavourings.

And, like all pointless crazes, it has caught me in its barbeque-glazed yummy trap.

So Very Meaty

From Patty and Bun to Dirty Burger, new burger joints have been popping up everywhere, and like I said, are the latest trend to have hit the capital.

So, just for you, and in the style of a fat kid eating their feelings, I have made my way through London’s new meat-and-bun based joints in order to bring you the best in diabetes-inducing dining options.

First up for review are two new American interlopers, Shake Shack and Five Guys Burger and Fries.

Arriving amidst the kind of advertising flurry only the finest multinational could afford befitting of a new trend, these two American heavyweights hit our shores last month, with a series of articles and reviews that left me drooling at my desk.

And, given that this is a head-to-head (or burger-to-burger) comparison of the two, I’ve highlighted a few fun facts about our competitors below.

A Bit About The Competitors:

Shake Shack

Clad in mystique, and awash with rumours that New Yorkers send their interns there at nine in the morning in order to queue for their boss’ lunch, I was determined to see if this place was worth the hype. These guys take the ‘shake’ bit of their shack seriously, with a choice of ‘normal’ ice-cream based shakes and a selection of what they menacingly intriguingly call ‘concrete’ – a flavoured, frozen custard in cup form – liquified into submission, topped with heart-stopping ingredients then served up for your drinking/artery clogging pleasure.

Five Guys

Heralding from Washington DC, Five Guys has been a burger flipping institution since 1986. Aside from already having their own hit YouTube video, the website boasts there are 250,000 possible ways to order your burger here, which is confusing as f*ck for a Brit who’s biggest choice at the deli counter is usually between brown or white bread.

The Review Process

Of course, in the interests of greed fair and controlled experiments, I decided I would need to have lunch at both Shake Shack and Five Guys on the same day in order to conduct a fair burger-to-burger comparison. (O.K. that’s a lie….I didn’t decide to have lunch at both in the interests of fair anything, I was supposed to just be eating at Shake Shack. But having walked past Five Guys on the way there, I jokingly suggested to my dining companion that we could do both in one fell swoop. He then made the fatal error of expressing horror at the artery-clogging-idea. So I said, ‘don’t be a pussy’, which made him see red and the Five Guys/Shake Shack Challenge was born.)

So yeah, I had two sets of fries, some coke and two double cheeseburgers for lunch. But dude, those Shake Shack burgers are small. Plus, it now means I can give you the officially sanctioned, totally 100% reliable ‘Shake Shack/5 Guys Burger Off’ comparison results (having now slithered up from beneath the rock I was digesting under).

The Comparison Test

First Impressions

By first impressions I mean the queue. The hot, insufferable queue we had to endure on an evil, sticky Sunday at noon outside Shake Shack. Was it insufferable because I was hung over? Maybe. But Covent Garden on any day of the week is pretty much festooned with nightmare tourist tat: break dancers, people dressed as statues (busking for change) and bad performers on stilts, armed with speakers and more confidence then an American Idol contestant (and as much talent, THAT’S RIGHT I SAID IT go get a proper job already). All of the above ends up clogging the Piazza’s cobble stoned streets, and made the wait about 40 minutes long. That said, my dining companion furnished me with water (for the head) and a menu (for the stomach), which made the wait a tad easier.

As you can see, there wasn’t much cover to be had in the middle of Covent Garden. Queuing done however, the inside of Shake Shack, located in said Covent Garden’s Piazza building, is rather lovely, with lots of al fresco seating located within the building, which has a feeling of being outdoors indoors, and actually outside it on the square. Choosing to sit within the Piazza we were serenaded by a live opera singer – and if we’d sat outside it in the sunshine, we would have had views of the Royal Opera House, so this was a win-win scenario all round.

By comparison, the queue at Five Guys was pretty short:

Once inside however even though the place was palatial in size, it was a little less classy, more fast food chainy:

Which is ok, but Shake Shack by comparison was just a tad more slick. Take this thing for example:

Shake Shack hands you one of these in order to get you away from the busy bar/food making area and into your seats quickly. Once your order is ready it vibrates, leaving you free to wander to your table without the stress of trying to listen out for your order number, which is what happened to us later at Five Guys. Because you had to wait for your order to be called at Five Guys everyone there ended up clustering near the counter, blocking everything. It also made people reluctant to sit downstairs, even though there was a ton of space there, as this would have taken them too far from the counter to hear their number being called. Which explains why the basement was devoid of human life when I snuck a peak down there later.

Burger

The Shake Shack cheeseburgers come awash in their own house sauce, which is delicious, and are topped with tomato slices and cheese. The burgers are on the small side though. Which is probably a good thing for most, but the reason for my needing to top up my stomach with more burger after.

The Five Guys burger was also very acceptable, and came in double cheeseburger form. I did appreciate the ability at the Five Guys’ counter to choose whatever toppings I wanted with my double hit of happiness, but in my newness to the experience probably didn’t go for the best of choices, choosing to top my bad boys with onion, pickle and salad. What I really needed was something saucy, because the resulting burger was a bit on the dry side, which was entirely my fault, and rectified with a bucket load of ketchup and mustard after.

To be honest, what made the difference was that the Shake Shack burger just appeared a little less dirty. Here’s what I mean –

Shake Shack burger:

Five Guys Burger (this is the version with bacon):

Now, I’m sure both of these are equally to blame for my current heart murmur, but the Shake Shack number looks that bit less scummy then its Five Guys counterpart. This is not to detract from the Five Guys’ attempt, but, wrapped in foil and a bit squidgy looking, it lost tasty points for me before I even shoved it in my mouth (this did not stop me from finishing it however).

Bun

Both were admirable attempts at the now ubiquitous brioche bun. But again, Shake Shack just about had the edge on these. Although in theory I like a bun with sesame seeds a la the Five Guys experience:

In reality, the Shake Shack bun was just that bit more tasty. All in all however, both were good.

Fries

Alas, I only had room for the Shake Shack fries. That said, I wouldn’t recommend them because they were super average, and frankly not worth getting fat for. This made me sad because when they arrived at the table they looked so, so good:

My dining companion chose to top his with cheese, which came out a dispense pump, like lotion, and tasted like it too. Yuck:

Conclusions

All in all, both these burger joints do a tasty bun-based meal and I’d happily recommend both. Five Guys scored points with me on two counts: first, they let people add whatever toppings they want for no extra cost; second, their burgers are decent sized, instead of tiny (darn you Shake Shack). Despite all that, I think I still preferred the Shake Shack experience (despite the fries, don’t eat those) because it was just that little bit more put together. Despite that, I won’t be going back to Shake Shack any time soon because of the mad queuing scenario, but they have a pretty slick operation going on there, with food that is just that bit more tasty then Five Guys’. And probably sized with your health in mind.

The Geffrye Museum, London

If you are bored and looking for something to do in London this weekend, then I implore you to give the Geffrye Museum in London a go.

This little known East London gem, located between the utterly convenient Liverpool St and Old St Tube Stations, feels a world away from the London of the modern age, situated as it is in the leafy grounds of a former almshouse.

To describe what the Geffrye Museum actually does however is to make what is an exciting experience sound rather dull.

This is because, on the face of it, the Geffrye Museum is a museum of English domestic interiors (from 1600 up to the present day).

And that sounds dull. But it’s not.

What it’s about

The Geffrye Museum isn’t a history of war (that’s the Imperial War Museum), monarchic strife (Hampton Court or the Tower of London, take your pick) or Machiavellian manoeuvrings (Parliament). The Geffrye Museum is a history of how ordinary people use to live.

And in that way, it is quite nicely subversive.

Given that the traditional approach to history and our teaching of it is mostly concerned with the goings-on of the rich, the white and the exclusively male, the Geffyre’s alternative take, which is to ignore the life of the aristocracy et al. and to focus instead on conveying the history of us to us, feels pretty post-modern.

The space

The museum itself is divided into different rooms, which you get to wander around at your own pace. Each is a snapshot of a different century in London’s history, with every one a lovingly made replica of an actual house somewhere in London.

Kicking off in 1630, you enter the rather sparse (people didn’t have much stuff in those days) and forbidding (I would so not live here) interior of a wood paneled Hall.

From there on you travel through time, wandering from household to household through the centuries, ending up somewhere in the 1990s, lost and confused, before being deposited in the gift shop.

Best bits

All in all, what I loved most about this museum is that it is full of interactive elements.

Things you can touch:

Read:

Listen to:

And sit on:

It is also amazing an amazing venue for children, with themed events, arts classes and school friendly activities going on all year round.

Getting the community in on it

The Geffrye is a venue that feels at odds with the hard, megalithic London estates that loom over it, just beyond its green expanse of grass, benches and trees.

Having walked through a terrifyingly large, silent estate and a police incident sign (something they put up when there’s been a stabbing or something else lovely) in order to get there, I can see why some people think of the museum as an odd oasis, fortressed off from the local community (which is one of London’s poorest boroughs). To be lulled into thinking this is a place that sets itself apart from its locality however would be a mistake. This is a museum completely situated in its community and it has gone out of its way to pull the children, parents and local inhabitants of the area into it, heart and soul.

What’s on

As part of this effort, the museum runs regular community events, period cooking classes and competitions, so it’s guaranteed that whatever the time of year, they’ll be something going on. At the moment the museum is hosting a celebration of Haggerston’s local history, with an exhibition (thoughtfully called, ‘My Haggerston’) running until 15th September.

Filled with videos, photographs and oral history recordings (created by local residents) you can find out more about the exhibition here. The event is also being complemented by a series of free walks and talks (I’m going to the one on Sunday) which will be running throughout August.

So, if you’re free this (or any other) weekend, why not take in the peace and calm of the gardens, hang out in the fully restored almshouse, or have a go at one of the special classes going on?

You won’t be disappointed.

A Garden Party

Twice a year the Queen throws a tea party in her garden. ‘Her garden’ being the grounds of Buckingham Palace that is.

Most of the people who get invited are nominated to go because:

1. They are fluffy do-gooders who run homeless charities and shit
2. They are rich and unbelievably well connected
3. They are the Lord Mayor of somewhere stupid sounding, like Broadbottom, or Kirkby Overblow (don’t laugh, that’s a real place)
4. They are in the military, and look good in uniform. Really, really good in uniform. (This is not to detract from the fact they’ve also probably killed for Queen and Country at some point.)

And then there are people like me, who really, really shouldn’t be there. (I don’t even care about the Royal family. One of them might be pregnant, or have given birth or something. I’m really not sure.) So, though I am sure I was chuffed to bits over the invite, I really hadn’t planned on going. But then my brother found out. And he’s a Monarchy-loving Royalist. So off we went.

…Only it wasn’t as simple as that because, by God it’s hard to get into one of these things.

Before you even get accepted you have to send the police (M15) the sort of data only a conspiracy nut would think the Government collects PRISM is privy to. Your address, date (and place) of birth, the last five places you’ve lived. Those guys asked for everything, and that was four months before the thing was even due to happen.

And then there are the dire warnings.

Along with the gilt edged invitation card you receive your actual invitation card, which you have to bring with you, in green. Forget that, and they say you won’t get in.

Fail to bring your passport, and at least two other forms of ID, and….you get the message. All in all, after wading my way through a list of instructions as complex as the Game of Thrones’ cast list I was thoroughly intimidated.

And then the day finally came.

Clutching my passport, my driver’s license and a copy of my latest gas bill, me and the bro patiently waited in the world’s longest queue to get into the Palace.

Only we didn’t. We were sneaky (by sneaky I mean we read the very clear instructions we were sent in the run-up to the day, which inform you that if you don’t want to wait in the world’s longest queue into the Palace, you can sneak in via one of the side entrances, which will deposit you into the very pleasant gardens instead).

And so we walked straight into the private gardens of Buckingham Palace. That’s it. No security, no scary dogs, just a fat policeman who waived us right through when we flashed him our green invitation slips. Our shitty green-pieces-of-card invitation slips. I could have bought them from a shop. That sells shitty pieces of card. The copper didn’t even check them.

The Gardens

That said, the Royal gardens (no shit) are really quite lovely. The first thing we walked past was this:

Followed by the tennis courts, which look onto a view of the back end of the Wellington Arch:

The Party

As per our scary instructions, I’d been very careful not to bring a camera, as these are strictly banned from the Palace grounds.

Being a good citizen I’d also switched off my phone. Which didn’t stay switched off for long when I saw everyone else getting their sneaky snaps in.

So while the first half hour had people attempting to take pictures from under their morning coats, the party ended with guests happily (and openly) asking other party goers to take pictures of loved ones and friends right in front of the Palace. Which we did too.

The Food

Many months later, I am still in awe of the catering staff, who went about their duties like a finely oiled machine. Bear in mind this was a party with over 1000 guests, who, when it rained (of course it rained, this is England) all legged it to the pavilions where the tea and cake was being served. En masse.

Despite the overwhelming demand the staff never faltered. I don’t think they even allowed an empty plate to linger on a table for more than a few moments. (Plus, when the cakes were done, they plied us with ice-cream). Terrific.

The People

That said, the crowd too was beautifully, wonderfully behaved. Despite the weather, people were in fine spirits and huddled in as much as they could to get as many people as possible under cover when it started to drizzle.

Tucked in out of the rain, and in a fine, orderly queue I really, truly felt for the ever so slightly plump woman ahead of me who daringly attempted to pile her cake like oh so many jenga blocks. The hostility from the top-hatted crowd was palpable. She winced. Lesson learned, I dared only two solitary sweet numbers and a salmon blini.

Both the tea and cake were served on the same plate/saucer combo to allow people to drink and mingle without too much fuss (see below). The selection of savoury and cakes/tarts/scones was very generous, although mostly dominated by sandwiches of the cumber and salmon variety.

Though very, very small, the scones (yes, that’s a scone topped with jam on the left) were fresh enough that I was surprised (again, this was a catering gig for over 1000 people), and I was delighted by the passion fruit number (at the bottom on the left), as the pastry managed to remain thin, crisp and the passion fruit refreshingly tart.

After goodness knows how many years of serving this peculiar hat-infested event, the Palace staff have got these parties down to a fine art.

The Royal Family

I nearly forgot this bit, but the Royal family did come out to say hello to the crowd, accompanied by two military bands playing the National Anthem. I didn’t take any pictures. Because I am too cool for that sort of thing. And because I had my brother to do it for me.

Guess What Afternoon Tea I’m Going to Review Next?