Q and I spent last weekend in London, flitting between Liverpool Street, Soho and Brixton to visit food and friends. Our base was the Andaz. Very artistic and moody.
We’d traipsed into the lobby from an unsuccessful trip to BAO. We’d been so excited to go but running behind schedule we were told they were taking no more people that day. So, I checked in with bedraggled, wind swept hair, damp boots and a hungry belly! (I ran through the rain for you BAO, God dammit)
So, with our bags dropped off we headed back out in search of a new place to eat.
“There’s this Mexican place called Wahaca that looks nice.” Q suggested. I agreed with that whining tone that signals I’m going with it until there’s a better offer.
Here’s the thing: I think Mexican food is rubbish. It’s just cheese and tortillas and avocados smooshed together in different combinations and that supposedly counts as individual, different dishes. And yes it’s as rubbish as cheese and flat bread and avocado can be, but y’know it’s still all just a bit… blah.
I was ready to order the usual fajitas (meat, cheese and salsa inside tortilla) or enchiladas (cheese and salsa on top of tortilla) or nachos (cheese and salsa on top of crisp tortillas [have I made my point?]) but instead I found an exciting selection of street food bites for sharing. The whining voice got quieter (especially when I ordered a Wahaca mule, which is to die for).
Real, home made guacamole. Fresh, chunky, abundant. It shouldn’t be a shocker when you’re served real guac but sadly, it is. It came with thick tortillas and a great bowl for scooping.
Then the food came rolling in…
Um… yum?! Where has this been all my life! I feel like I’ve tried Mexican food for the first time! Delicate, light bites simply bursting with flavour, and there’s more than the usual line up; there’s plantain and feta and mushrooms, as well as chipotle sauce that set my gums on fire. There’s even smoked salmon sashimi, which topped with crispy onions had me singing Wahaca’s praises. Finally somewhere shows me that Mexican is more than a lacklustre, greasy wrap! All that food and four cocktails came to £60, not bad at all.
From Wahaca mules to plastic pints in Brixton, our night eventually finished on a sophisticated note back at the Andaz champagne bar. It’s a mix of beautiful, marble glamour and moody modern.
The marble section was closed off for some reason, which made me sad because the lighting was fantastic (#BloggerProblems)
Hitting the small hours with a belly still full from our Mexican feast, not even that espresso Martini could keep me from retiring to my marshmallow bed! It’s always a good night’s sleep when you’ve ticked a few more discoveries off your list.