I’ve been going through a phase of serious pasta cravings to the extent that even wishing I’d been born Italian. Freshly cooked pasta, mozzarella, tomato, pizza and an ice cold glass of white wine sounds like a perfect date night. I’ve lived in London for long enough to have go-to places for my widely different moods. Surprise, surprise, my Italian mood is usually somewhere in the top 3 – and not only because of the serious amount of fire in my belly, but because pasta satisfies me more than any other food. Sometimes there is just simply nothing better than freshly cooked pasta with peppercorn and garlic. Fresh tomato sauce. Parmesan. Carbonara. When in London, the answer is so deliciusly obvious: San Carlo Cicchetti.
The “tapas style” Italian restaurant uses only the finest and freshest seasonal ingredients, besides many of those are flown in from farmers markets across Italy to ensure the place stays so authenticly Italian.
If you’re ever, I mean ever after the most heavenly made, fluffy, creamy, just simply “f**** perfect” Spaghetti Carbonara, you know where to go: Covent Garden or Piccadilly, just behind Regent Street. A little piece of Italy will take you away from the always croweded streets of Soho and will introduce you to the best of Southern Europe.
History of Carbonara
As an education piece the names pasta alla carbonara and spaghetti alla carbonara are unrecorded before the Second World War; notably, it is absent from Ada Boni’s 1930 La Cucina Romana (‘Roman cuisine’). The carbonara name is first attested in 1950, when it was described in the Italian newspaper, La Stampa as a dish sought by the American officers after the Allied liberation of Rome in 1944. It was described as a “Roman dish” at a time when many Italians were eating eggs and bacon supplied by troops from the United States.
Also, there are many theories for the origin of the name carbonara, which is likely more recent than the dish itself. Since the name is derived from carbonaro (the Italian word for “charcoal burner”), some believe the dish was first made as a hearty meal for Italian charcoal workers. It has even been suggested that it was created as a tribute to the Carbonari (‘charcoalmen’) secret society prominent in the early, repressed stages of Italian Unification in the early 19th century. It seems more likely that it is an “urban dish” from Rome, perhaps popularized by the Roman Restaurant of the same name.
Oh hello. Life has been extremely busy recently with all sort of extremes. Busy workdays, hot summer days, long haul flights, yoga classes and ice-cold drinks on rooftop bars. And to be very honest, life has been absolutely awesome.
I thought it was too soon for a new love and I was probably right. It was both too soon and too late, besides it all felt like a compromise. I guess what I learnt during my recent years is the one thing you could not compromise on was happiness. So there we are again. Tanned, happy and more loved up than ever.
As every year I was blessed enough to kick off the summer craze in beloved Barcelona then took on a new adventure in Dubai’s 47 degrees. I’m literally chasing the Sun this summer whilst trying to consume how people and places influence me.
I was at the check-in counter by the gate at Dubai airport when the captain of my flight arrived. The check-in guy was busy comparing my passport photo to my jet lagged face whilst he loudly greeted the approaching Captain. His “Hello Captain” was quickly followed by an “Oh, a Lady” statement which made me turn around as well. The Captain, indeed, was a lady, tall and confident with the best kind of British accent. In this Hidden Figures moment I felt a little weird but incredibly proud at the same time. In the Middle East part of the World it still shocks men when a woman does a job that is perceived something only man can do.
Anyák napja alkalmából jobban esik most magyarul írni; egyébkent is jó gyakorolni az anya-nyelvem. Ahogy felejtem a magyar nyelv tanát, úgy válok egyre jobban Britté: már tejjel iszom a teát és mindig elnézést kérek, ha hangosan tüsszentek.
A londoni belváros forgatagában találtam egy saroknyi nyugalmat, egy pohar új zélandi Savignon-t és minden csacska gondolatomat. Levegőt csak néhany óránként vettem a héten, így alig vártam, hogy végre péntek legyen. És amíg próbálom eldönteni, hogy az angol teát vagy az amerikai kávét szeretem jobban, minden gondolatomat elviszi az a fránya kapitalizmus. Budapest, Prága es Nürnberg után London túl szépnek tűnt, hogy igaz legyen és mégis: már majdnem 4 éve itt van az az otthon, amit sehol máshol nem találtam, miután eljöttem Magyarországrol. És, hogy Budapest mennyire a szívem legeslegközepe, az sosem volt kérdés.
Míg valakinek két hét múlva örökké lesz, engem két hét múlva a végtelen magyar nyárestek várnak minden mámorukkal. Áteltem és megéltem mindet, bár néha elsőként érkeztem és elsőként távoztam úgy, hogy senki észre sem vette, hogy ott voltam. Gyakran pedig a hirtelen jött boldogságtól ugráltam a hajnaltól megdermedt utcákon, amikor mindenki más az igazak álmát aludta. Azok a jó öreg budapesti éjszakák.
In the beginning of this year my annual horoscope did warn me about people quitting my life just as fast as they entered it and although I would prefer some of the more special ones to stay a bit longer, I like keeping things from being too predictable.
This year has already brought an interesting mix of stability and surprises to my days; with Jupiter hanging around in my second house of security I can see the magic in the chaos more clearly than ever before. My partnerships are now most definitely shaken, not stirred; just like how both me and James like our drinks. My life is turning into a big heart to heart conversation on a Wednesday afternoon adjusting to widely different people and the Eastern Daylight Timezone.
I’m trying to keep my expectations in my back pocket, just in case I needed to justify certain situations. People have started to intrigue me more and more, making me want to live forever, even on a rainy Sunday afternoon. There is certainly magic in the unexpected, but whilst I’m trying my best not to fall in love too deep, I should just concentrate on what’s important in life. I can easily live on olive bread with salted British butter, good music, burning sunshine and would never say no to an ice-cold Gin Tonic with lime and strawberries.
Can I be Femme Fatale if I only wear sneakers?
I had deep conversations with a charming new-comer who’s currently winning The Best New Addition category by miles – and without making any significant effort. Apparently Femme Fatale doesn’t wear Axel Arigato. Well, let’s see, shall we.