The white wall

Outside where I work is a large, white wall. A large, white wall that is apparently completely irresistible  to the youth of the town where I work. After a greatly amusing C-bomb attack on the wall last week, we had another fantastic offering yesterday. 'smoke wead evry day' with a picture of a stick person smoking a fat (or should that be phat?) spliff is now emblazoned on the not-so-white-anymore wall. Now, as a part time teacher of primary school children, I had to restrain myself from getting out a red pen and marking his poor spelling, grammar and punctuation with a 'see me' comment. I might just sit outside waiting for him, and then when he comes back, which he inevitably will, make him write it out correctly, Bart Simpson-style, 100 times as way of punishment.

Image: Lucy

Dinner for five at Naru, Shaftesbury Avenue

Last night I went for dinner with my lovely family to nosh on a cuisine I hadn't tried before: Korean. We went to Naru on Shaftesbury Avenue. After having roamed the end of Shaftesbury Avenue I know well, around Neal Street and Cambridge Circus, I realised that it was the other end I needed to be. Past the Shaftesbury Theatre and on to a little promenade of restaurants, shops and smart houses, to number 230. Naru is somewhat typical-looking of an Asian restaurant - small, opening into a dimly-lit restaurant with fresh flowers and many tables, unfortunately on this night, not filled up - there were three other sets of diners.

As I went in, the waitress ushered me to our table and put down huge leather-effect menus, ready for when the rest of the party arrived. At each place we had thin, silver chopsticks resting on elegant porcelain stands. Once the rest of my clan arrived we ordered Jasmine tea, which was beautifully sweet and aromatic, made from fresh Jasmine flowers, steeped in boiling hot water. I was once told by someone, 'Never trust a restaurant which has photos of the dishes in the menu.' Well, Naru has photos of the dishes, so I was a little bit apprehensive of the quality of the food that was going to come my way - but my brother, who suggested the place, told me to 'just you wait and see'. And wait and see I did. Because the food was magnificent.

To start with we all ordered different starters, so we could share. I ordered Kan so sae woo (prawns lightly fried in batter, with a sweet chilli sauce), my sister-in-law ordered Gun Mandu (homemade vegetable dumplings), my brother ordered deep fried boneless chicken, mum ordered potato noodles (more on them soon) and dad, smoked duck with mustard relish. Although they were billed as starters, the mound of food that came was anything but started-sized. As a family of foodie aficionados, we love to feel there is value for money, and this place certainly provides that. All the starters were delicious - perfectly cooked and, in the case of the prawns and chicken, extremely spicy - my cold that has been brewing for the past month came and went with a good few dollops of sweet chilli sauce! Mum's potato noodles sound very odd, but were a wonderful surprise, of soft, flavourful, super thin noodles made from potato flour (not actual potato, which I initially thought). They came with mixed stir-fried vegetables, crunchy and sweet, the perfect accompaniment to the soft noodles.

Then came the mains. Mine was an absolute sight to behold. I ordered Hae Mul Bokum, which is mixed seafood in a sweet and spicy sauce with glass noodles. What came to me (pictured) was a most impressive feast of the sea, with a whole, giant scallop resting in a (not 'its') shell, with squid (or calamari, as they call it), mussels, prawns and crunchy vegetables in another potent sweet and spicy sauce. 

My mum and sister-in-law had a special, extremely hot (sizzling, as my mum soon found as she went to touch it, ouch) metal pot filled with rice, beef or tofu, vegetables and an egg yolk on the top. You mix the ingredients all together in the pot in order to make the equivalent of an egg-fried rice dish. 


My brother had a pork, soupy stew, and my dad had the most delicious and tender ribs of beef (on the bone, fingers crossed it wasn't horse...) in a wonderfully rich gravy, with brown and wild rice and vegetables. 

The meal was accentuated with top ups of hot water for our tea, which was a delight. The service was good, when we had it, but the waitress was far from attentive. She stood at the bar which was round the corner and didn't check on us other than when she was taking orders or producing food or drink. This is preferable to the much too over-enthusiastic waffling you sometimes get at restaurants (every five minutes being asked if 'everything is ok?'), but, when my mouth was on fire and there was no sign or hope of water, service did fall a little flat. The food did come quickly, and when we did speak to the waitress, she was polite and charming. I would highly recommend Korean food, and in particular, that of Naru Restaurant. 

Naru Restaurant
230 Shaftesbury Avenue
London
WC2H 8EG
www.narurestaurant.com

Images: Lucy

Fear Of Missing Out (or FOMO to you and me)

I was introduced to this concept on Saturday night. A night out had been planned for weeks for about five of us, we were going to my friend Fran's house for drinks and then we'd go and paint South West London red. But when I got to Jen's, Chris was there. Now, you probably wouldn't consider this of any significance. Of course Chris was there - why wouldn't he be? Well, because he had, for the weeks prior to this particular Saturday night been telling us that he wouldn't be able to make it due to other commitments. I'd made my peace with this harsh reality, so I was surprised to see him there, in the flesh, drinking a cider and munching on pizza. 'How come you've managed to make it?' I asked. He told me that he was only staying for an hour because he didn't want to miss out. He also bandied the term FOMO into the mix. 'FOM-what?' As it turns out, Chris will happily traipse to one end of London from the other end to see us for an hour and then traipse into central for the rest of the evening, just so he doesn't miss out. Which is of course very lucky for us, because it's lovely to see him. Unfortunately (perhaps) this kind of selfless spreading-oneself-thin thing has long gone with me.

It has not always been the case though. Oh no. About five years ago I had similar FOMO during a music course. I stayed up all day and night, having about two hours sleep a night, for seven days, and I slightly cracked up. Once I had finally realised that nothing that amazing was going to happen in my absence, I finally crawled into my tent, exhausted, willing myself not to get into a similar situation again. I've since realised that if I'm not about for that bit of gossip or that bit of FUN, it doesn't really matter. There will be tons of gossip and FUN in my life - both of which will be a lot more satisfying with a few more hours of sleep. So now, if I am double, triple or quadruple booked I choose my favourite and sack everyone else off. And even if I'm not any of those kinds of booked up, I sometimes just listen to my inner-lazy and stay in and watch Come Dine With Me.

*I've changed the names, as 'Chris' is threatening me with legal action** if I don't.
**Not really. He did ask me to change his name though.

Tattooed eyebrows a la Natalie Cassidy

Is it just me, or are tattooed eyebrows just a little bit strange? What makes eyebrows eyebrows is that they have differing degrees of light and shade, thickness and thinness, so having a stomping great big caterpillar etched on your face, in something that is effectively poo-coloured permanent marker, looks, well, a bit crap. Not to mention the fact you are stuck with the brows forever. I can just imagine Nat Cass (who, by the way, I don't hate) being old and grey, sporting a very lovely, and very charming dark-brown surprised set of brows. I look forward to that fun.

My tip for eyebrows? Use sharp nail scissors to shape the bottom of your brows, only when they get unruly, and don't pluck or snip above the brow, the hairs grow back in weird angles, which means you loose your arch (thanks J17, circa '98).