Wednesday, October 22, 2014

The Search for Whitebait

From the moment I woke up, I had an overwhelming craving for whitebait. I'm not sure why, or where it came from, just that I hadn't had them for ages and had to have them. I really fancied chomping on the little , whole battered, deep fried fish no larger than my little finger. I never liked them much as a kid but over the years learned to love the crunchy morsels of goodness.

I'd had some work drinks the night before celebrating my birthday, I'd just turned 27. I was at work but as soon as I ran the bell at midnight and killed the music, the whole pub burst into song. It was embarrassing seeing both customers and staff singing me 'happy birthday' and 'for he's a jolly good fellow', I hate being the centre of attention, especially being sung to.

It ended up being a really heavy night, with drinking games an' all. Luckily I'd been given the whole day off so took advantage and lounged around in bed all morning. I had no plans, only that I was desperate to conquer my craving for whitebait.

I finally got up, showered and set off to meet my uncle at his. It was about 4pm by this point and I think I'd just started to sober up as I felt I was ready to prostrate. No matter how much water I drank, it didn't seem to quench my thirst. What I needed was a beer... and some whitebait.

Frank wanted to show my this street he'd recently rediscovered around the corner from his in Somerstown, London. It was about a five minute walk and as we'd decided to head in the direction of Camden, it was on the way. We walked past estate after estate, it seemed to me that all Somerstown had to offer was a series of housing estates old and new, council and private. There was a pub that I hadn't seen the likes of for years. It was like the pubs you see in costume dramas where the men are drunk on ales, swinging and spilling their beer over the floor, always a fight breaking out in one of its many nooks and crannies and ladies of the night prowling, eyeing up their next paid encounter or two. Only this place was set in the present day.

We ended up walking to Primrose Hill with no success finding any whitebait. I made sure to check every menu that we walked past, not only pubs but restaurants too. We'd search high and low for this elusive whitebait with no luck. I'd been told that somehow whitebait had 'gone out of fashion' but I dismissed that, I should have listened. It was time to call it a day I thought, a more important thing was locating a suitable venue for rehabilitating myself with more beer, the 'hair of the dog' as some call it.

We were lured into this rather upmarket cocktail bar on the fringe between Camden and Primrose hill. I spotted a sign saying '2 pizzas for £15', it caught my eye and I was pulled in. Obviously I'd misread it completely failing to notice the big lettering saying 'take away only'.
We wondered inside and instantly felt under dressed. The bar area had its own what I would call a concierge. It was a very posh place with elaborate chandeliers, wide stainless steel topped bar and bar staff wearing waistcoats and bow-ties. Frank ordered two pints of Meantime London Pale Ale which seems to be a popular choice for me these days. I excused myself whilst I received a barrage of phone calls from people wishing me happy birthday, as not to be rude and talk loudly on my phone at the bar. I shortly returned to Frank who I'd left on his own at the bar and continued to drink. The beer had an almost unpleasant metallicy taste to it, but with only the expected after taste it was fine and not worth complaining about. As we were nearing the end of our pints and the time reached about 8pm, the place suddenly swarmed with activity, It was time to take our leave.
Oh, in reading more about the bar I have just discovered that it is one of Gordon Ramsay's restaurants, The York and Albany Hotel, Parkway, London.

With a defeatist attitude, especially being unable to find my much desired whitebait, I recommended an Italian restaurant near Chalk Farm called Bar Centrale where we could at least get a fairly priced and decent pizza. You never know, they could have had whitebait on the menu.
I was hungry, very hungry and the pizza soon disappeared into my belly and I was full. So full in fact I was unable to move comfortably let alone drink another beer.
We walked slowly and steadily back towards Kings Cross, hopefully to aid in the digestion of the mammoth pizzas we had both just finished.

With 'Mabels Tavern' in our sights, we decided on one last pint before retiring to Frank's flat and eventually succumbing to fatigue and sleep. Annoying as I sat down and took a sip of my pint I noticed a menu to my side. Frank was outside with a cigarette so I glanced over the menu. They had whitebait and calamari as a started. I was far to full and tired to even consider it. It took an hour and a game of cards to finish a lovely autumnal ale by Shepherds Neame called 'Late Red'. I wasn't up for drinking at any faster rate if at all.


My search continues...

If only I had realised at the time that we'd stumbled upon greatness...

If you're in Camden and fancy a decent pizza without breaking the bank.

While it's still autumn, give this one a go!

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