Camden Pale Ale with a New York setting.
After seeing shells scattered on every possible surface, I’m going to assume Healthy Yummies
were a big hit! Selling hand-dived West Bay scallops served in the shell with celeriac puree, cured Old Spot bacon and seashore vegetables. Added coolness came naturally thanks to the pimped out 1970’s ice cream van.
van stole my heart thanks to its euphoric hues and fumes of bloody amazing tandoori-ness. The van was previously owned by The Bombay Bicycle Club – bow down!
The craft beer bar was heaving all night but it was the Rotary bar
where my party was at…
“Rotary is best known for festival-style, pint-sized cocktails and their Rotary Mobile Margarita Mixing Machine.” The dream.
The beautiful Mother Clucker’s
trade their crunchy delights from an ex-military Chevy American ambulance that, in its previous life, was used to save soldiers’ lives. How ironic, as it seems their southern fried chicken also saved mine…
Taco Shack were crazy busy with their three tacos followed by a ‘chilliback’ – a shot of tequila with a habanero juice chaser. Woah there nelly!
I had the
most unreeeeeeal Japanese chicken and coriander gyoza dumplings from Rainbo
– these little things were the pièce de rèsistance of my entire eve. Plus, 20p from every meal goes to their Food for Freedom initiative, rescuing and rehabilitating child labourers in Western Nepal.
Japanese chilli chicken in the pillow-soft, steamed buns from the famous Hackney food stall, Yum Bun
When my good friend asked if I wanted to head over to Truck Stop
for the eve, I was initially thinking a big fat NO
due to the thought of beer-belly-skinheads with plaited goatees, flogging knocked-off beer to a terrified Sophie.
But thanks to Google, I realised I was/am really quite stupid…
We’re talking food from every corner of the globe from the UK’s top 20 food trucks along with craft beers, pint size mojitos and la musica. Held in the bankers playground, Wood Wharf (Canary Wharf) – this place was the ultimate destination for breathtaking views and bloody outrageous food.
Like a sweet NYC snap, you’re surrounded by mirrored sky scrapers reflecting the burning orange sunset whilst you chill on the grass with a cold Camden Hells or mill around the trucks like a starved dog on heat.
It all got a bit much for me, my senses were running wild and I immediately adopted a pregnant ladies mentality of eating for two. That shortly went out the window and I soon I found myself eating for 6…but it’s ok.
Calories don’t exist if you’re drunk, right?
If you’re a hero with friends…15 or more (your cats don’t count), book yourself a keg party! Choose between a keg of Pale Ale or Camden Hells, which serves 50 pints!
AND if you do, can I come?
Next stop, Dalston Yard, for a touch more scoffing…