Month: August 2015

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Pizza Union, King’s Cross

Posted on by Farrah Kelly

Since my fella moved in with me, I’ve had fewer excuses to hang out with his flatmates- three girls who truly appreciate a glass of rose and a lip sync battle.

And considering I owed Sally an overdue congratulations on her snazzy new job, I took her out for dinner at Pizza Union, King’s Cross to catch up and pig out.

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Friends had raved to me about their other outposts, so I was looking forward to giving them a whirl myself. It has a distinct uber-cool school canteen vibe, topped with gorgeous mixed tiles that were oh-so-Instagrammable.

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Good pizza should be quick, simple, and pack a punch of flavour. The menu at Pizza Union might look brief, but this is as it should be. Venetian Pizzarias don’t stack their menus high- Pizza Hut does. With fewer, more focused options, you can practically guarantee that thought and love has gone into your choice.

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I had the Manzo- tomato and cheese base (how else?), beef, chilli and rocket.

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Damn. The base was crispy, cooked to perfection in their mosaic pizza oven, with the toppings generously scooped on. Fresh, filling and moreish, the pizza took me near on an hour to eat while other Pizza Unionists were whipping in and out with their speedy pizzas in no time. I like to savour my meal, okay? Plus I was side snacking on a big cuppa olives and popped chilli nuts.

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Pizza Union was the perfect setting for a catch up- relaxed enough to unwind after a day in the office, fun enough to not feel shy giving out great big belly laughs, and with enough early 2000 hits to have a little sing along between pizza bites. Despite the crowds we all seemed to be getting quick and happy service, an oddity in the London fast casual scene.

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Dessert was dolce- Sally had coconut and I had salted caramel with peanut. When we both shirked the nutella option the waiter seemed agog- urging us to try his favourite- but despite his best intentions we stuck to our guns and can happily report the Caramello and Coco versions are worth a recommendations too. Sweet filling wrapped in a sweetened dough ring- quite a heavy but undeniably tasty end to the meal.

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I’ll be coming back to Pizza Union- King’s Cross is my gateway to the North and I pass through pretty regularly. I can now sack off the Pret dinners to take on the train and get a decent, superfast (they mean it when they say superfast, our bums had barely hit out chairs before our buzzer went wild) pizzas from here. Bellisimo.

Pizza Union, Pentonville Road King’s Cross.

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A glorious weekend in Cornwall

Posted on by Farrah Kelly

For someone who considers anything below Sheffield as the deep South, Cornwall was so far off my radar I was never quite sure if it was a mythical place or not. I spent a good portion of my life thinking it was a separate country, you know, in a Wales-way, before one day looking at a map.

Geographical ineptitude aside, when your boyfriend thinks he’s Cornish, you will end up being dragged onto a five hour train pootling it’s way out west at some point. So off we pootled.

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We stayed in a family friends’ place, a gorgeous place with a view of a creek, completed with a croquet garden, and spent most of my time (you guessed it!) eating and Instagramming.

We walked along the Lizard and the surrounding areas. Well, I walked, stopping for photo opportunities every few yards, while the Frost family, who are from/been coming to these parts since they were knee-high pointed out secret coves and told me stories only the locals would know.

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At the end of the walk we settled in for a spot of afternoon tea, Cornish style (i.e. with copious amounts of cream).
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Fresh crab sandwiches.

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Enormous doughnut with cream and jam.

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Before heading for a post-pasty nap and swim at Looe Beach.

Saturday was spent exploring Truro, a little city centre that’s about five streets large. We were entertained by the Truro Male Choir, a collection of cute grandads with belting voices that melted my little heart.

The Truro Male Choir, killing it.

A video posted by Farrah Kelly (@farrahkelly) on

8And spent the rest of the afternoon playing cards, croquet, and admiring the trinkets and vintage-style travel posters we’d picked up from tourist information boards and a spot of kayaking. Well, Jonathan kayaked, I just barked instructions and took a snooze while he paddled away.

Sunday morning, up and at ‘em, we sped off to Saint Michael’s Mount in time for the tide. The Mount, one of Cornwall’s classics, is accessible only at low tide, when the path from Marazion to the Mount is slowly revealed by the waning sea. It’s pretty cool.

The Mount is home to gardens, a traditional castle, and a really lovely exhibition on the life and history of Islanders. Mosying around the castle (with the legions of other tourists) took up a good part of the afternoon, and is definitely worth exploring. Of course, there were the obligatory idiots, and it was sometimes difficult to get a nice snap because some school trip were in the way, but we were there at peak time, so it’s all to be expected.

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Jonathan’s family really know their way around a kitchen, so all weekend we feasted like queens on scones with freshly made jam, duck and good solid red wine, a trio of fresh fish with capers, roasted poussin and hearty cheese boards. I spent the entire weekend in a food-induced haze, stunned by the scenery, and losing card games. It all came crashing down on the way back to reliable London- with the five hour train having no food cart, and all District lines cancelled from Paddington- but this cosy weekend of National Trust walks and Cornish Cream was absolutely worth it.