London & Andres

Someone once told me the best food in London is whiskey. Why? “Because it’s what they use to help digest all the bad food they have there.” After coming back, I’m telling people I will only eat lettuce & water for two weeks and my ClassPass schedule is full so that can only mean one thing: SCROLL DOWN AND CHECK OUT MY TRIP FILLED WITH GREAT FOOD AND NOT A DROP OF WHISKEY.

Before I jump into all the food porn, let me state why I crossed the pond in the first place. We were visiting our friend Andres who has lived there for 3 years. Andres possesses three enviable talents: he can fall asleep anywhere, anytime, he will always ALWAYS be the subject of stories that will make you cry laughing, and he has one of the best heads of hair in the business (that is, the “eligible Puerto Rican bachelor” business but you know, I give credit where credit is due). So, for a weekend where six girls magically agreed on plans in advance, we decided to burden Andres’ existence with our outfit discussions, delayed plans, and spontaneous photo shoots.

We started off going to high tea at the Ritz because apprently afternoons in the UK are just like an episode of Friends. However, instead of going to Central Perk you go to a room of full of gold & champagne, there are no muffins just towers of fancy sandwiches, and instead of listening to “Smelly Cat” in the background there’s a pianist making you feel like your parents dragged you to a party you’re not old enough to attend. Bolivar said one friend told her that having tea at the Ritz was like being in the Titanic, to which I replied “well I am definitely relating to Jack Dawson at this moment in my life more than ever.” I have never been so cautious while holding a mug and my posture has never seen a brighter day.

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Then it was off to Duck & Waffle. Once we got seated there and saw the Snapchat-bait-James-Bond view of the place we discovered that there was a whole section in the menu for bread. JUST. FOR. BREAD. After the carb coma, we had plenty of other delicious small plates (detailed in the captions) and then it was time for the holy grail aka the duck & waffle. OH. MY. WORD. The duck literally melted in my mouth.

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Next up was Dishoom, an Indian restaurant that was so so spicy and so so good which helped my state at the moment of so so hungover. They had everything: potatoes, RICE, spicy stuff, naan, mucho diet coke and basically just what my soul needed to keep calm and carry on (sorry! I had to) after a long night.

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Lastly, there was the Sunday roast. The room was delightful, the menu was simple, and the meat was downright scrumptious. I had my first ever scotch egg and had only seen them in photos before that and did not know they included pork so it was nothing short of a party in my mouth. At this point we were all ready to go home so this comfort meal felt like the perfect parting gift from the land of the Spice Girls, Lisa Vanderpump, and David Beckham (all listed in order of importance…to me).

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HONORABLE MENTION BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE IT: I love Nando’s. A lot. I know there’s a couple in them in the US but still, just like hearing someone talk, it feels better when it’s British. I made it very clear to my friends that I wanted to go there once in this trip and if you know me you know that making things clear in my book is basically grounds for locking me in a room and not letting me out in two days. Anyways, I got a grilled chicken wrap smothered in Peri-Peri sauce with chips and that’s it. I was happy, my life was full. My friends got some too so not only did I get to share my unadulterated joy but I also got further proof that while some may call my persistence tactics “annoying” I call them SUCCESSFUL.

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Conclusion: I was gobsmacked by how splendid London food was.

Now, back to Seamless, panic scrolling through Trump tweets, and binging on Bravo. Cheerio you bloody mates!


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