London Life: Cote Brasserie in Highgate

We've been focusing on Highgate in North London recently as a possible area for our next abode. Until today, when we spent the best part of the rainy day there, I didn't really know the area at all. Some twelve months ago when we knew little of where in London we'd like to live, we drove around taking in Highgate, Crouch End, Gospel Oak, Tufnell Park and Dartmouth Park in one late afternoon. During that same whirlwind tour of North London, I dismissed Highgate as 'too busy'. Having now seen it on two separate occasions, both times on foot, I really don't know how I could have come to that conclusion. The High Street is busy, obviously, but it's so near the Heath, and with some fantastic views over London wherever you look, it's really growing on me.

I guess after living in London for a year, my idea of 'busy' has also changed.

Anyway, having spent the morning looking at flat after flat, dodging the rain, by twelve o'clock we were in severe need of refreshments and were pleased to see that a branch of Cote Brasserie had opened at the bottom end of Highgate High Street. This chain of French style restaurants is owned by Richard Caring, of Caprice Holdings, who own the Ivy, Le Caprice and Scott's on Mount Street (among others), and have a majority holding in the highly successful Soho House chain of private member's clubs. As we sat down to order from the shortish breakfast menu, I could see Caring's magic touch in the food, decor and the customer service.

I had my usual going-out-breakfast; smoked salmon with scrambled eggs. The eggs were soft and runny; just salty enough and just creamy enough to satisfy my by then huge appetite. The salmon too was excellent: fresh and smoky, just the way I like it. When I asked for a wedge of lemon, it was brought to me without complaints or shrugs. So often staff take a negative attitude if anything out of the ordinary is requested by a customer. Here the service was keen and friendly, yet not too pushy or artificially jolly.

The Englishman had pancakes with fresh fruit and bacon. That too looked delicious. Had I not been so famished, I would have tasted his food, but in my hurry to get my tummy filled, I forgot.

The existence of a little piece of the Soho House chain magic in Highgate will definitely weigh positively in the balance when we finally decide where our next home in London will be.

Enthusiastic carol singing is not good for you ( or rather me)

Attending the annual carol singing evening at Soho House (or Babington when we lived in the sticks) has become a bit of a tradition for us. It's a rowdy evening of sing-a-along to Podge and Jae Alexander's versions of popular Christmas carols and songs. They have the keyboard, the talent, the enthusiasm and the voices and we the crowd follow along as best we can.  The upper bar is taken over and the singing echoes through the House, scaring the diners below and testing the strength of the old Soho floorboards with the heavy thumping of feet. As usual the most fun part of the evening is the rendition of 'Twelve Days of Christmas' where different groups sing the 12 verses, doing as many silly gestures as possible. This year we were duped in by our immediate neighbours to do 'The Three French Hens'. It was only after the song was over that we were told these guys chose this verse every year, trying to sing it as loudly as possible - this time mostly right into my ear....

But the damage the evening caused to me was nothing to do with my eardrums or even the white wine we had afterwards. Because it was a Monday night, we were taking it easy (for once) so I feel particularly grieved about what happened. After the singing had ended and Jae was packing away his musical equipment, my friends and I were sitting on one of the plush sofas in the now nearly empty bar when I suddenly twisted my body and felt my back 'go'. I struggled down the stairs to the ladies' where I tried to stretch my back, pulling at my legs while sitting on the loo. But to no avail. We had to cut the evening short. I struggled out to Greek Street where luckily there was a free taxi. The drive home over various sleeping policemen, turns and twists of the London roads was the most painful I can ever remember. Holding onto the sides of the back seat, all I longed for was to get home to an ibuprofen and a lie down.

Of course the back pain didn't allow me to sleep much, and today I feel old, tired and a little sorry for myself.

Not the usual state of affairs after a night at Soho House Carols...so was it the enthusiastic singing, dancing, or simply the fact that as yet I haven't signed up to a Pilates class up here in London? It couldn't be age-related, now could it?

To lift my spirits, I scanned the net and found this old favourite rendition of 'The Twelve Days of Christmas'. Hope you enjoy it and I hope it makes you too feel Christmassy whatever challenges life throws at you.