Flowers, what a beautiful morning
Air conditioning, cake, and The Princess and the Pea.
I’m back in California where I belong and have a lot of exciting things happening behind the scenes of Jelly Sandwich. Plus there’s almost 1,000 of you.
The title of this letter could be Longing for Winter Part II because there’s still a heatwave in Los Angeles. Last week I even told a stranger on the street that I’m dying for winter and that this heat is just “fucking awful”. I pulled down my mask so she could see my very expressive face and look at the wrinkles in my forehead and the elevens in between my eyes that will make me lots of money one day.
Ed Ruscha appeared in my neighborhood the other morning.
Right after I took this I discovered that my car had been towed. It was the first time something like this had happened to me. I was planning on going for a hike before the temps spiked. As soon as I got my car back less than an hour later I sped up to Griffith and was the only person on the trail. It was a perfect welcome home.
In the afternoons I’d rather be sitting peacefully in traffic on the 101 in my air conditioned station wagon than in my house without AC where my boyfriend is currently quarantined with Covid-19 (I have been washing my hands so much that the gel manicure that I got 4 days ago has already peeled off). I’ve only put mascara on twice out of my 10 days since being back. I couldn’t say the same if I lived in New York City. My ceiling fans aren’t cutting it. I spent a few days trying to find AC elsewhere and found it usually led to me wandering around a cold market, or a luxury home goods store. I had to stop myself from buying 3 kinds of bar soap. I already had 2 unopened ones waiting at home.
While I was away I thought a lot about Los Angeles, and now that I’m back I’m thinking a lot about London. I mentioned in the last letter that the most special night of our trip was going to The French House pub in Soho. Upstairs, there is a restaurant with about 10 tables max. I love the website because it looks like it hasn’t been updated since the early 2010s. My therapist, who is the most cultured lady around and knows everything about everything and everyone in the world, has also dined at French House. She told me that around Christmastime there is a holiday market there where the restaurant is and you can find some of the most special bits around. I did fantasize about Christmas in London while I was there, but then again I’ve been fantasizing about Christmas in general.
The menu was handwritten. Immediately +10 points. To start, we ordered the sourdough toast with goat curd (how the English say goat cheese) and an entire confit garlic on top. The fish special was John Dory which is extremely close to my father’s name, John Dougherty. I had no idea what it was so I Googled it like I do with most things at most restaurants when I don’t recognize the name of something. The fish looked straight out of a Pixar movie, and I don’t eat red meat so of course I ordered it. It was the butteriest, most tender fish I had the whole trip (and I had a lot of it). Of course, paired with a side of green salad and fries. A green salad in London was about £6 every place we went. In America a side salad is double that (or more!). To finish, we got the madeleines that are made to order and come out hot, sparkling with powdered sugar and a side of lemon curd. Plus the chocolate & rum mousse. Also perfect. It’s so easy to fuck up a mousse, but it’s so easy to do it right. The night would not have been as special if it wasn’t for our server, Terry. We sat at arguably the best table in the place, next to a big wrought iron window that was cracked open. Outside, a Union Jack flag flapped (say that 3 times fast) in the wind.
The morning after, we went to Violet, which I’ve been dreaming about since leaving. It was a slow gray morning, our last full day in the city. We dropped our laundry at the mat down the street and walked to the bakery. It’s situated on a rather quiet, neighborhood street. I watched the ladies frosting the cakes in the window and it gave me a glimpse of another life that I could have if I wanted. Something like this scene from The Hours (2002) with Meryl Streep.
I dreamed a whole life up, right there in the courtyard eating my cinnamon bun scone, thinking of myself as some sort of conglomeration of all three fairy godmothers, Flora, Fauna, and Merriweather. This scene has stuck with me ever since I first watched Sleeping Beauty as a child. The same goes for this (maybe a bit more niche) scene from Max and Ruby, a show I watched growing up. The kid bunnies are making cakes for their grandmother’s birthday. Max’s: a chocolate cake with earthworms and Red Hot Marshmallow Squirters (great name), Ruby’s: Angel Surprise Cake with Raspberry Fluff Icing adorned with birthday candles, silver stars, sugar hearts, and buttercream roses. There’s also something to be said about this cake from Alice in Wonderland which I have seen a baker recreate with extreme success for a children’s birthday party.
Violet serves All Press espresso from a chartreuse La Marzocco machine. All their branding is under this same color. Even the button to sign up for their mailing list. Thank god they came out with a cookbook in 2015, it’s now on its merry way to me.
I’ve written about baking in Jelly Sandwich before, about how I was brought up around both my grandmothers who were avid confectioners. Here’s a still of me from when I was 2 asking my dad about the KitchenAid mixer. They still have the same one!
Speaking of all things cake, Stissing House in upstate New York, (a place I haven’t been to but dream about) is hiring a pastry assistant. Is this my call to move back to the east coast?
Leila’s Shop in Arnold Circus is a wonderful lunch, though I did spend most of the meal hoping I wouldn’t get shot in the back with a bow and arrow. In March of this year there were 2 attacks, one on a 20 year old man, another on a 44 year old woman, both impaled by a flying arrow. The man in question has been arrested and since released (?!) causing obvious concern amongst the community.
I loved the glassware at Leila’s. Colors of the rainbow Duralex glass plates. I was so inspired that I searched on Etsy while sitting there eating my caputini with courgette, white beans, and ricotta salata. I’ve since ordered this from Jane Cookshop in New York, one of my favorite little shops in the East Village. I plan to keep room temp butter in it. Jane actually carries similar Duralex plates but not the exact ones from Leila’s. Still– a close second. I also quickly recognized the stools used for outdoor seating because they use the same ones at the LA watering hole, Stir Crazy. They were originally designed in 2006 by Martino Gamper to serve as seating for events at Arnold Circus like brass band concerts, picnics, flower plantings, and the like. They are aptly named Arnold Circus Stool. Sometimes at Stir Crazy they flip the stools and use them as a wine chiller. They go for $160 a pop.
E5 Bakehouse is the last place worth writing home about. They serve their bread most everywhere and like I mentioned last time, I smuggled one of their rolls onto my 11 hour flight home. I love breakfast. I will eat breakfast at 2pm. It is the joy of my life.
Don’t miss out on IDEA Books, the Margaret Howell store, Liberty, Record 28 Books, and Towpath on the canals.
We took the early train to Amsterdam for the weekend. I already told you about my Hagelslag experience at Cafe de Pels, but I also loved Oficina. They refer to themselves as a “canteen”, (a term I haven’t heard since theatre camp in 2011. It’s where you’d go to get an ice cream) and are away on holiday until September 1st. Carter and I were some of the only ones there and got a lucky seat at a big table upstairs, usually reserved for larger parties. We shared a big green salad, potatoes with spring onion and a big pot of buckwheat tea. Tea time should be all the time.
On our last night in Amsterdam, we went to De Tros where I got shit on by a parrot not even 5 minutes into sitting down. The servers apologized profusely to me, but somehow I didn’t care knowing that it was good luck to be shit on by a bird. Plus they made up for it because the meal was lovely. We sat there for a while after we finished our mint and ginger teas and sucked on lollipops that were served as compliments with the bill.
The highlight of Amsterdam was our stay at Carmen. One of the most special places I’ve ever had the privilege to stay. I felt like the Princess in the Pea. But I do wonder how many more people would move to Europe and never come back if they only got AC.
I’ll see you again soon. Let them eat cake.
the sleeping beauty cake meant so much to me as a kid
christmas in london really is delightful!!