Friday, 13 May 2016

Review - Trade, Testi

My head is like a little room (read: padded cell) that I bounce around if everything's nice, or from where I stare longingly out of if it's less nice. Either way, I quite like chilling in there by myself thinking about frippery like writing this blog and what colour am I going to paint my nails etc. But it's tricky to keep it empty (writing this post has taken forever cos it's so crowded in here with stress rn) and that mostly falls on me. Like: why the fuck am I killing myself, my time and energy doing something which I really, really don't care about? Hmm? All I need to do is drop the ball and accept that some things are not my responsibility and that even when they are, shirking a little responsibility goes a long way for general health, happiness, headspace etc. This is why my pet peeve is feeling like there's unequal amounts of responsibility in a relationship (friends, siblings, housemates, boyfriends, whatever) even though I am painfully aware that it's just my nature to assume it. And that is also why even if in all situations, I probably have a preference and usually take control and charge towards the outcome I want, I don't actually want to behave like that. What I really want is to not worry and not take any control or any responsibility and someone else deal with everything, even the problems that I didn't know I had. And that, pals, is the modern woman's (or at least this modern woman's) paradox. So, this weekend demonstrates some experiments in me dropping the ball in favour of my sanity.

Trade, or, 'getting thirty copies of your CV is not my problem, and you actively asked me not to make it my problem, but here I am making it my problem. FFS Ari'
I got a free breakfast out of my willingness to bring the CVs though. Unfortunately, I ordered really poorly. I went chicken and bacon club because it was really warm and I think I had in mind that I wanted something really fresh (basically I think I was imagining a caesar salad) but this was actually a burger with sweet brioche bun - very delicious, but very rich. Plus, it's worthwhile going for something with eggs at Trade as they are the kind of place that makes an annoying thing over brunch, the flip side to which is that they're well practised at poaching eggs. (V good eggs)

Testi, or, 'if you don't want something fucking with your headspace, the best thing you can do is relinquish all responsibility and see how things pan out (maybe - tbc if actually capable of this)'

Testi was recommended to me by someone who I think of as having much finer taste than me in everything, but especially food. But I gotta say: Mangal Ocakbasi is better by way of north east London Turkish delights. The cold mezze platter is a dream with hummus that reminds me that it's not that I don't like hummus - I just don't like supermarket hummus. The meat of the main struck me as a little underseasoned but then I had let it get cold because I was busy having a very structured business meeting about my personal life, and that I can't pin on Testi.

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