Christmas coffees are coming to town

How can I tell the Christmas season is nearly upon us? Well, the first clue is my Instagram news feed - almost overnight, it has filled up with rosy-tinted photos of people's little red cups from Starbucks (and by people's, I mean mine).

I know, I know - it's not even December. But there is a silver lining to the season starting so early in London; all the more time to plough through the Christmas drinks of 2013.

Inspired by the seasonal aromas of cinammon, hazelnut, orange, toffee, ginger and... um, forest fruits, Christmas coffees are right up there with the John Lewis ad and scented candles for all-round festive feel-good factor. The season has turned, and the coffee gets us excited by setting the mood for the upcoming festivities.

The big three - Starbucks, Costa and Nero - have been peddling their Christmas offerings for several weeks now and, in that time, Starbucks' red cups have somehow taken on a celebrity cult status of their own. They even have their own hashtag (#redcups... obvs).

Heads literally turn as people strut past with their red cups, lapping up the coffee envy that is inevitably thrown their way by passers-by. 'I gotta get me one of those', I think, and before you can say Gingerbread Latte, I've made a quick detour and turned left into Starbucks.

But once I get the the counter, I hit a problem. Which to order?

Choosing your Christmas coffee is something of a Russian Roulette situation. With risky flavours in the mix like eggnog, orange and forest fruits (why?), you really don't want to get it wrong.

So, being the season of goodwill and all, I've roped in some help and between my friends and I, we've tried most of the coffees on offer...

STARBUCKS

Starbucks.co.uk

Last Sunday, I received a text message from my housemate Katy, who seems to be taking this very seriously: "OK. So I had a Toffee Nut Latte yesterday and I really liked it! Clem didn't. And he had the Chocolate Orange Mocha and neither of us really liked that - faaaar too orangey I thought."

So there you go.

I've also had the Eggnog Latte which I suspect might be a bit of a grower. Topped with nutmeg, it was sweet, thick and creamy but, dare I say it, a bit eggy. Which isn't really what I look for in a coffee.

My advice is go for the classic sweet and spicy Gingerbread Latte and you can't go far wrong - especially if you ask them to use their Christmas Espresso blend, a smooth and subtly caramelly addition to even the blandest Americano. Delightful.

COSTA

Costa,co.uk

Faced with the task of competing with their rival's near iconic red cups, Costa have retaliated brilliantly by introducing their Santa Cups, which make you look like you've got a white beard. In your face, Starbucks!

What goes inside the cups is equally extravagant. The super-sweet flavours will probably make a true coffee-lover wince, but there are some interesting non-coffee options such as the glitter-topped White Hot Chocolate and a Hot Spiced Apple drink (complete with star anise and a cinammon stick).

Sadly my favourite from last year, the Peppermint Mocha, is nowhere to be seen at Costa (it seems to have hot-footed it over to the Starbucks menu, however). But fear not, the Salted Caramel & Cream Latte is quite excellent, and definitely my 3pm festive drink of choice at Costa, preferably with a mini stollen or a festive yule log on the side.

CAFFE NERO

caffenero.com

If Caffe Nero was a person, he'd be a suave Italian guy who is far too cool to be seen with a Santa-beard cup or a sparkly White Hot Chocolate.

The Nero Christmas experience is altogether much more tasteful than its brasher rivals. Even the gingerbread men are classy (Ginger Giovanni, anyone?).

There are only three Christmas coffees on offer at Nero and they are predictably grown-up - Roasted Chestnut Latte, Praline Latte and Amaretto Latte.

I ordered the latter and was a bit disappointed by the comparatively ordinary blue cup that I was presented with. But then, to my utter delight, a little gold foil-wrapped praline was placed on the counter next to my coffee - and Nero are so back in the game.

Oh and the coffee itself was, of course, delicious, with a distinctive marzipan flavour. But that is almost beside the point - it was never really about the coffee. It's about the experience.

A well-timed Christmas coffee just seems to make everything better, from cold Tuesday morning commutes to manic Oxford Street shopping excursions. It's hard not to feel comforted by the cosy refuge from the chilly city streets, and the feeling of warming your cold hands around that little red cup.

In a (toffee) nutshell? This craze is simply about the countdown to Christmas. Yes it's still November, but resistance is futile. Accept your fate and embrace the Christmas coffees.

A piece of Bombay heritage in Covent Garden

The old Persian-run cafés of nineteenth century Bombay were hubs of the sprawling Indian city, where rich lawyers and brooding writers could find themselves sipping chai next to rickshaw wallahs and noisy families.

There were around four hundred of these cafés in Bombay at their peak. Now, sadly, less than thirty remain. Café Coffee Day (the Indian equivalent of Starbucks) is the ubiquitous meeting place of choice, with identical modern air-conditioned outlets on every street corner.

Dishoom have captured this fading moment of Indian heritage and have shared it with Londoners, firstly in Covent Garden and now also in Shoreditch. In a nostalgic homage to the original Bombay institutions, no detail has been overlooked. Creaky ceiling fans waft the scent of sandalwood and cardamom around the room. Sepia photographs and ageing mirrors adorn the walls, and scratchy jazz plays in the background.

So how better to bid farewell to our own fleeting Indian summer than visiting Dishoom for an al-fresco dinner? We head there straight from work, arriving at 6:45pm on a Thursday in late September, to be greeted by a sizable queue (bookings for under six people aren't accepted after 6pm). However, somehow we are sat down almost straight away as we're happy to dine at the tables outside.

The skies are darkening and a cool autumn breeze blows through the streets surrounding Covent Garden. Dishoom looks warm and cosy inside the lit windows, I think enviously as I warm my hands on my masala chai, served in an authentic Indian glass. Then I look at the snaking queue making its way down St Martin's Lane - that doesn't look cosy. We made the right choice.

I start the evening with a Dishoom cocktail named the Bollybellini - an unashamedly girly concoction of raspberries, lychees, rose and cardamom sparkling with first-class Prosecco. At £7.50, it's roughly the same price as most of the main dishes on the menu (which are almost shockingly good value), but I've paid far more in London for bog-standard cocktails so I'm pleasantly surprised.

For snacks, we order what appear to the naked eye to be multi-coloured Wotsits, but in fact are named 'Far Far' (£2.20) served with a range of Indian chutneys - they're unusual, halfway between a crisp and a cracker, but curiously tasty.

The menu itself is refreshingly creative and affordable, about as far removed from a typical Indian restaurant as you can get but with roughly similar prices. Our waiter explains that chefs from Mumbai are sponsored to come and work in the Dishoom family, and the result is a menu packed with all the authenticity and flavour you could hope for, but modernised and refreshed to capture the imagination of even the most jaded London diner.

Choosing just a handful of items from the menu was torture, as I eyed up dishes like paneer and mango salad, gunpowder potatoes, chilli cheese toast and pistachio kulfi. But somehow we manage to make a shortlist and opt to share a range of dishes. Lucky we did, because the portions aren't massive like typical takeway fare - these are satisfying but fairly small plates, designed to be shared and swapped around the table so you can get stuck into a bit of everything.

I'm delighted to see paneer tikka on the menu (£6.90) - when I was working at a newspaper in Bangalore a few years ago, I became a little bit obsessed with this Indian cheese. Many of the cafés were entirely vegetarian but if paneer was on the menu (and it always was), it was hard to notice, let alone care, that there was no meat on offer.

But these days I'm very much back on the meat, so we order the lamb boti kebab (£8.50), tender pieces of lamb marinated in ginger, chilli and garlic, and the chicken ruby curry (£7.90) - oh my. Packed with flavour, this classic curry envelopes perfectly cooked chicken in a rich silky and ruby-red makhani sauce, which we mop up with thin, crispy garlic naan straight out of the tandoor oven.

Lamb Boti Kebab, Dishoom, from LondonTastin.com

I forego dessert in favour of the best cup of masala chai I've had since the roadside shacks in the foothills of the Himalayas or from the chai wallahs on the train to Delhi. Dishoom's chai is creamy, warming and spicy, with a hearty kick that prevents it from tasting too sickly sweet for our British palates. My friend orders the chocolate chai - which is everything you could hope for on a chilly Autumn night.

Helen's swearing at me...

After all that, we ask for the bill and are amazed to find it only comes to £25 each - including service charge. I now want to tell everyone and anyone about Dishoom, but it seems I am a bit late to the party - it's already built a loyal following in the city for bringing the best of Bombay to London's food scene. Like India itself, Dishoom is full of contrasts - rich and bold food at unpretentious prices, a nostalgic heritage with a fresh, modern attitude.

But again, like India, you need to go more than once to fully experience Dishoom in its many forms. I want to go to the Shoreditch outpost for a Bombay breakfast on the indoor-outdoor veranda, swing by in the afternoon for a chai and a snack, or come back late at night for a few more Bollybellinis and rainbow Wotsits. But now the weather's turning, I'm not sure I fancy sitting outside again - I'll just have to rally 6+ friends and book a table. Who's in?

www.dishoom.com

Time well wasted: My favourite things on the internet

The internet has brought us many things including the good, the bad and the ugly; from identity theft  and Twitter trolls, to new relationships and long-lost family reunions.

But, perhaps most importantly, it's brought us this.

This is not a dog politely riding the train to work (it's actually not). But this image, and many others like it, is a pointless and yet oddly brilliant antidote to the daily grind. And there's plenty more where that came from...

1. Gizoogle

Fo' all y'all biotches who wanna find shiznit! Gizoogle translates (or 'tranzizzles') your own text or a website of your choice into gangster speak. Try writing all your correspondence today this way - your boss will love it! Or, should I say, "Try freestylin' all yo' lettas dis way todizzle. It make me wanna holla playa! Yo' crazy ass boss will ludd dat shit."

2. Ryan Gosling: HeyGirl.io

Need more Ryan Gosling in your life? The genius 'Hey Girl' app replaces every image in your browser with a smouldering, sensitive, impassioned or pensive picture of the Notebook star. That's right. No more selfies, babies or cupcakes dominating your Facebook news feed. No more disillusioned politicians greeting you on BBC News this morning.

Just lots and lots of pictures of Ryan. Which is how it should be, really.

3.  28 ways to make a meeting more interesting

This article originally appeared on The Guardian in the late nineties. With my finger firmly on the pulse of popular culture, I discovered it 12 years later.

Meetings were never the same again. I've dreamed endlessly of writing the words 'He fancies you' on my notepad and showing it to the person next to me while indicating with my pen. Or producing a hamster from my pocket and suggesting we throw it to one another as a means of idea-exchange.

This just does not get old.

4. TubeCrush

It's one of London's cruellest phenomena.  The hottest person you've ever seen, and quite possibly the love of your life, chooses your carriage to board. It can't be a coincidence. But then, after five stops on the Central Line, they wander off and are gone forever.

Pervs around the city have found a solution: TubeCrush, a site dedicated to capturing those fleeting moments on the London Underground. Next time you see a little iPhone peeking out over the top of Metro, you know you've been TubeCrushed.

The site has sparked controversy with its general creepiness and blatant double standards (imagine if there was a female equivalent!). But, boys, ask yourself this; what's the one thing worse than being on TubeCrush? That's right - not being on TubeCrush.

5. London Grumblr

LondonGrumblr is essential browsing for anyone who might need a daily reminder to see the funny side of London life.

Through the medium of animated GIFs, LondonGrumblr somehow manages to sum up all that irrational anger that Londoners share towards tourists, out-of-towners, commutes, Monday mornings, hangovers, £10 cocktails and cramped flats - and makes it something to be perversely proud of.

My all-time favourite Grumbles include:

• When I check my bank balance the morning after a 'few quiet drinks'
• When I fall asleep on the bus and miss my stop
• When my out of town friend wants to go to Oxford Street on a Saturday

Very, very funny, and very, very true.

My London Summer Bucket List

Ridiculously long grass in Hyde Park (and Primark sandals)

I had an epiphany yesterday. This glorious spell of sunshine isn't some freak April heatwave, nor is it just a couple of sporadic hot days in September which everyone optimistically calls an "Indian summer" to compensate for months of relentless rain. Guys, this is not a drill. This. is. the. actual. summer.

So far, we've had nearly two whole weeks of temperatures consistently over 28 degrees. God knows how long this unbroken stint will last, or when we'll ever see the sun again once it finally takes its leave. Indeed, I can't help but feel we're being buttered up for the mother of all winters...

But it is precisely this kind of cynicism that brings out my spontaneous side;  all I know is that while London is bathed in sunshine, I am hell bent on making the most of it. I will hunt down anyone who dares complain of being too hot. Every day, I'm basking and drinking Pimms like it's the eve of the Ice Age. And I'm not the only one. Like clockwork, at 12:30 and then 5pm each day, a mass evacuation of office workers takes place in the city in favour of the nearest parks, beer gardens, rooftops and patches of grass.

Boundary rooftop in Shoreditch - worth the queue

We'll never have the cool, carefree attitudes of our Mediterranean cousins, who can happily siesta and sit in the shade, safe in the knowledge that their summer isn't going anywhere; Londoners are almost panicked with the desperation to soak up every last drop of sunshine before it inevitably disappears.

I've embraced this sense of urgency by creating a London summer bucket list. I've already ticked off around a third of the activities on my list, but that still leaves me with plenty of material to see me through whatever remains of the heatwave. Here are my suggestions for fellow sun-worshippers who might be getting a bit 'picnicked out'...

Wine and ducklings at sunset in Kensington Gardens

The Bucket List: Summer in the City 2013

1. Make a bucket list!
2. Take a dip in the Serpentine or Hampstead Ponds 
3. Party with the penguins at The Zoo Lates
4. Run through the fountains at Somerset House
5. See an outdoor production at Regents Park theatre
6. See the sensational butterflies at the Natural History Museum
7. Go up to the top of the Shard while the skies are clear
8. Watch the sun come up after a night out and get the first tube home (it's so much easier to pull an all-nighter in the summer...)
9. Spend a day in Richmond village
10. Take loads of photos at the Mayfield lavender fields in Surrey
11. Visit the Houses of Parliament during summer recess
12. Drink my weight in Costa Coffee Coolers 
13. Unwind at the Saturday morning yoga class at Battersea Power Station
14. Go a bit crazy at the Notting Hill Carnival
15. Take the 45 minute trip to Cambridge and go punting through the colleges
16. Drink Prosecco at one of London's rooftop bars - notably Boundary in Shoreditch, One New Change at St Paul's, Radio Bar on the Strand or the Queen of Hoxton
17. Instead of hitting the pub, take a bottle of wine to the park after work and watch the sunset
18. Immerse myself in the summer of 1963, at Future Cinema's 'Dirty Dancing' screening in August
19. Hop on the EuroStar for a spontaneous trip to Paris
20. Sit in the waltzers or catch a burlesque show at the London Wonderground, South Bank
21. Escape London - hire a car and drive to the beach
22. Have a back garden sleepover under the stars, teenager style
23. Float around on the pedalos in Battersea Park
24. Experience the magical world of wizardry on the Harry Potter walking tour
25. Get the Thames Clipper to Greenwich and gaze down at the city from the Observatory
26. Go strawberry picking at an out-of-town farm
27. Brave it and wear a bikini in the park
28. Get lost in a summery novel
29. See LOTS of my friend Maj before she moves back to Canada at the end of the month
30. Blog about all of the above (or at least a few!)

If you could be anywhere in the world right now...

...where would you be?

Here: tree camping in Germany - from EyeHeartTravel

This is the ultimate question that my friend and former colleague (aka 'Little Legs') is famed for, and which she always times to perfection - like after she spots you getting one of those emails that makes you bang your forehead on the desk.

On sensing a moment of total mediocrity, she'll pipe up the immortal words, "If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?"

You would think it only served to highlight the depressing fact that we were in an air-conditioned office in King's Cross and, sadly, not on a multi-million dollar yacht in Cannes being served champagne cocktails. But somehow it always cheered me up; this simple question offered us a momentary escape and limitless possiblities - and then a grim chuckle at our comparatively mundane surroundings.

The only rule of this little game is that you have to really think about it and build a vivid picture of your scenario. No vague niceties like 'lying by a pool, somewhere hot', oh no. Little Legs demanded specifics - where exactly, what time of day, what are you eating and drinking, are you alone...? It takes serious thought; some days, you just want cosy. Other times, it's all about the sunshine, or the fresh air, or the food.

And as you'll see below, today has been one of those totally unremarkable days where this game really comes into its own...

7am, Shepherds Bush vs Greek island

I ignore my shuddersome iPhone alarm and wait until the last possible minute before forcing an eyelid open and braving the shower. I am on the ubiquitous 5:2 diet and today is a 'Fast Day', which means I can look forward to a meagre breakfast of instant coffee. On days like this, you've got to cheer yourself up anyway you know how; my housemate and I have taken to listening to Rebecca Black's Friday earlier and earlier in the week - Tuesday was a new low. :(

But if I could be anywhere in the world you say? Well, it's never too early for clichés, so I think I'd be waking up in a little blue-domed villa on a remote Greek island, with the golden sun streaming in and the turquoise sea lapping outside my window. When I can bear to leave my bed of soft white linen, what do you know, but a fully laden tray of breakfast (yoghurt, honey, fruit and freshly brewed coffee) has been delivered to my terrace by some charming Greek waiter. There's probably some ambient local music in the background (why is the only thing that springs to mind 'Zorba the Greek'?!). And maybe Ryan Gosling could be there too. Yes, he's there. In fact, it's him bringing me the breakfast.

9am, the Central line vs the Open Road

As all commuters know, it's a jungle out there. My usual razor-sharp rush hour tactics have failed to get me a seat on the way to work this morning, even after the mass exodus at Tottenham Court Road.  I've been well and truly played by some chancer who did the whole 'shuffle around with his bag' thing so it looks like he's about to vacate his seat, only to stubbornly stay put - meaning I miss out on a seat on the other side of the carriage. (Not cool, man).

It's no way to travel. Given the choice, right now I'd like to jack it all in and head out onto the open road in a vintage convertible, with a tank full of gas and a buddy who's come along for the ride - kind of like Thelma and Louise, without the crime spree. I can just picture the wind in our hair and the rocky horizon stretching out ahead of us, country music blaring out into the purple Santa Fe desert; the very definition of freedom, promise and optimism.

6pm, Liverpool Street office vs Moroccan courtyard

Everything starts to go wrong at work at about 5:15pm. I need somewhere peaceful and exotic - so where better than the oasis-like courtyard of an ornate riad in Marrakech? After a leisurely afternoon of shopping in the souk, I'd sip a fresh Moroccan peppermint tea to the faraway sound of the distant call to prayer and the trickling of the mosaic fountain.

10:30pm (now), my living room vs Goan beach bar

Actual snapshot of the view from our favourite beach bar in Goa!

Maybe I'm getting old, but I'm not sure I'm quite up for a Ibiza club or muddy festival tonight - it's been a big day what with the Greek island, the American road trip and the Moroccan courtyard. My inner old lady quite fancies curling up in front of the fire in my mum's cottage in Suffolk, and re-reading Harry Potter with the dog by my feet. But hey, I can do that for real in a couple of weeks. YOLO, as the kids say!

This is fantasy so I'm going to opt instead for a chilled out beach bar in Palolem, Goa, where I'd be sinking into the oversized cushions on the sand, getting happily drunk surrounded by lots of people without a care in the world. For this is a place where you plan your day spontaneously by the tides, the sun and your appetite, not the clock.

Can you tell I'm suffering from the 'first world problem' of holiday withdrawal symptoms? Apart from a few staycations, I have barely left London since my epic Indonesia trip a year ago. There are however worse places to have spent a year than this amazing city. In fact, somewhere on the other side of the globe right now, maybe someone is asking their friend the same question, 'If you could be anywhere in the world, where would you be?'. And maybe, just maybe, their answer is London.

www.willbartonphotography.com

Boybands are for life, not just for the Big Reunion

Happily, ITV have confirmed that this year's sleeper hit The Big Reunion will be returning for a second series.

A friend of mine and unlikely fan of the Big Reunion hit the nail on the head when he explained its irresistible appeal as 'combining the classic against-the-odds story arc of a Rocky film, with a soundtrack of forgotten 90s pop'.

Like an ageing Hollywood boxer/cop/bank robber who is "getting too old for this shit", one by one we meet exiled pop stars who, after a decade in the wilderness and against their better judgement, are persuaded to come out of their comfy retirement and return to their former life for One. Last. Job.

Battling their broken egos in search of closure and vindication, can they still cut it in this youth-obsessed music business, or have their fans simply moved on? Silly question; this motley crew, including 5ive, 911, Atomic Kitten and Blue amongst others, were welcomed back by millions of nostalgic viewers with open arms, and the tour sold out before you can say 'Five bad boys with the power to rock you'.

The concept made for a surprisingly emotional rollercoaster. There were tears. There were memories (or a lack thereof, in Abs' case, who "doesn't remember anythin' man"). There was laughter. And, oh my, there were TUNES.

We also learned a lot - Rich from 5ive has adopted a charming Australian accent. Spike from 911 "wasn't called Spike for no reason" and his pint-sized bandmate Lee is still heartbroken from an ill-fated marriage to Lindsay from B*Witched (who knew?). And, as it turns out, nearly everybody was wasted on SMTV Live.

But the show can only be as poptastic as its line-up. Apparently, the obvious candidates All Saints and Eternal have just given the producers a big fat 'no' to appearing in the second series. And in what we can only assume must be the desperate act of a panicked TV exec under pressure to confirm at least one name, ITV have reportedly signed Big Brovaz of dubious 'Favourite Things' fame.

Step in The London Escapist, speculative casting consultant and Saviour of the Big Reunion. As a child of the '90s and incurable pop fanatic, I've taken the liberty of putting together this fantasy line up for series two. Have I forgotten anyone?

BUSTED

ITV need at least one of the Big Guns to join season two, and Busted would be the ultimate coup, with high drama guaranteeed after a famously bitter 'bust' up.  Charlie Simpson, or 'Judas' as he is no doubt known to many girls my age, left Busted in 2005 in search of a credible music career that didn't involve the lyrics "I messed my pants, when we flew over France". He has always said that he would never, ever, ever get back together with Busted. Like, ever. And even if he could be persuaded, could Matt and James ever forgive him for nipping their careers in the bud?  Watch this space.

ANOTHER LEVEL

Dane Bowers. Enough said.

SAVAGE GARDEN

OK, so it's debatable whether Darren Hayes and, er, the other one would provide any dramatic value to the Big Reunion. Indeed, I have literally no idea when, how or why Savage Garden split. But this one's all about the music. If you ever cried to Truly Madly Deeply or believed the lyrics to Affirmation were a mantra for life,  you'll know what I'm talking about.

O-TOWN 

Rumour has it there's at least one US group in the mix for the next season. Assuming it's not The Great N'Sync, there is a clear second choice: O-Town, whose biggest hit was a creepy but catchy song about wet dreams. Liquid Dreams was so wrong... but so right.

A1

Poor A1. After the camp extravaganza of Summertime of Our Lives and the a few unexpected number one hits, they were riding high. But all record company execs know it's the beginning of the end when  boybands decide to chop off their glossy curtains and go 'indie'. A1 experimented with guitars on their last album - and were never to be seen again. In my humble opinion, this era was responsible for some of their finer, lesser-known material ('Caught in the Middle' was emotional). But the label bigwigs clearly disagreed and A1 slipped out of the limelight quietly somewhere around the early noughties. Seems like they're ripe for a comeback...

BLAZIN' SQUAD

Oh I went there. Now surely pushing 30, the ludicrously named Kenzie, Krazy, Melo D, Reepa, Spike-E, Slutty D and poor old 'Freek' would fill the 'bad boy' gap left by 5ive in the Big Reunion. Imagine, if you will, the whole gang together again, serenading you with their heartfelt ode to a certain sexual act, Flip Reverse It. Those Big Reunion Tour tickets would sell themselves... probably.

GIRLS...?

I suppose I should pick some girlbands - particularly if we want to see any budding romances on the show. But with All Saints and Eternal out of the picture, and the Spice Girls already having reunited twice, we might be scraping the barrel. Alicia's Attic could be fun or, even better, could we just form a supergroup out of Billie Piper, Samantha Mumba and Jamelia...?

So there you have it; a veritable dream team of pop nostalgia. Of course, we're far more likely to be saddled with the likes of Northern Line, Cleopatra, One True Voice, Hear'Say and Big Brovas. But, as the wise S Club 7 once said: reach for the stars.

Everything is illuminated: The Light Show

Image: Rose, by Ann Veronica Janssens, from telegraph.co.uk

Have you seen the sun? Apparently it's big, hot, round, and radiates a lot of light. Last seen in the UK around the time of the Royal Wedding in 2011.

If you find it, please return it at once and I will reward you handsomely with choc ices and Soltan. In the meantime, I would suggest that everyone visits The Light Show at the Hayward Gallery.

Hot on the heels of The Rain Room, the Light Show is this season's 'it' exhibition, selling out daily and receiving rave reviews from kids to critics alike.

The ability of light to transform your whole emotional state cannot be underestimated. Perhaps this is the key to the Light Show's unprecedented popularity; it turns out a lot of people want to escape the dark, grey and INSANELY COLD streets of London for a lighter, brighter and happier world.

If our eyes are indeed the windows to our souls, imagine the mood enhancing benefits of throwing open those windows and letting light flood in. Luminescent, colourful, dazzling, psycadelic light. It's really no wonder you leave this exhibition with that dizzy, uplifted (and slightly queasy) feeling that you get when you step off a rollercoaster.

Image; Chromosaturation, by Carlos Cruz-Diez, from telegraph.co.uk

Somehow all of the hype for the Light Show had completely eluded me before my own visit, so when a friend suggested it, I thought we were heading to an obscure, cool little exhibition on the South Bank.

What awaited us was a wildly popular, other worldly experience. The lacklustre afternoon daylight seemed lightyears away once we entered this impressive display of illusion and effects. The first exhibit (Cylinder II, below) is pure, unadulterated sparkle, like a giant Christmas decoration. I was hynotised.

Image: Leo Villareal, Cylinder II, 2012

Once you get past the initial spectacle, there is a lot more to these installations than meets the eye. I was particularly struck by some of the more subtle pieces, including Exploded View by Jim Campbell, which plays on our uncertainty of shadows. A web of little lights gently shimmers in seemingly random patterns - until you catch it at a particular angle and the effect takes on the unmistakably familiar shape of passing commuters on a street.

Another highlight was the solid 'cone' of light by artist Anthony McCall. We were awestruck as we stood inside his light sculpture, 'ripping' into the beams around us with our hands and staring, fixated, into the light at the end of the tunnel. "I feel like I'm about to meet my maker!" whispered a young woman next to us.

Image; You and I, Horizontal, by Anthony McCall, from guardian.co.uk

My absolute favourite thing at the Light Show was the somewhat stressful display of fountains in a strobe lit room, by Olafur Eliasson. Under the intensely flashing lights, the water makes random, unconnected shapes. You can feel the droplets on your face and yet the water looks solid, as though frozen mid-flight. (Don't touch the water though. They don't like that.)

By this point, my poor retinas had taken an absolute beating, never quite sure whether to dilate, contract or indeed to believe what is in front of them.

In my very humble, layman's opinion, there were just a couple of duds at the Light Show. I didn't quite get the little plastic cup, spinning around on a blender, with a torch shining onto it...

But overall, the exhibition is a spectacle for the senses which simply awes and inspires. Absolutely anyone would take enormous pleasure from this very accessible exhibition, and it could just be a lifesaver for light-starved Londoners this Spring.

The Light Show runs until 6 May 2013. Tickets are £11 (concessions available). Tip: Book tickets in advance, preferably not on a weekend! 

Animal cafés are coming to London

Image: from daveandcharlotte.com

Sometimes, an idea comes along that is so obvious, so genius, that you kick yourself for not coming up with it first. I am talking, of course, of the Sausage Dog Café. Just to clarify, this is definitely not some trendy new London eatery where the menu only consists of sausage dogs and champagne. (Bubbledogs, anyone?)

Until now I never quite knew what was missing from a typical café experience - the coffee, ambience and baked goods may all be quite excellent, but what would make it so much better? Sausage dogs, of course; dozing, playing and roaming free around the room. Have you ever walked past a sausage dog and not smiled? Exactly.

The Sausage Dog Café, planned to open in Brixton once enough funds have been raised, is set to be a haven for any stressed-out dog lovers who can't have a pet of their own, with plans to have a knitting corner, opportunities to take the dogs out for a walk and all the tasty treats you’d expect (including sausage rolls).

Image: Sex and the City, An American Girl in Paris (HBO.com)

This follows hot on the heels of the news that London's very first cat café is officially on its way to Shoreditch, inspired by Japan's plethora of cat cafés. Just last week, Lady Dinah's Cat Emporium reached its fundraising target of £109,000 and the dream is to become reality.

The popularity of the urban animal café is the latest manifestation of a universal truth that any self-respecting animal lover already knows: pets = escapism.

Pets are the ultimate antidote to our first world problems, blessed as they are with a trusting nature and an appreciation for the simple life. The best we could manage post-university was to buy two little dwarf hamsters, the late Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy; we would play with the little fellas as soon as we got in from work and enter an almost meditative state as they ran over our hands on the spot, like a mini-treadmill.

Mr Bingley was kind of a big deal

Animals can also immediately put you at ease  - in the same house, we used to watch YouTube clips of baby penguins whenever we were freaked out after watching a horror film. After 30 seconds of watching the penguins falling over and waddling around, any fears about ghosts or serial killers would be long-forgotten.

Even academic types have started to cotton on, with one Canadian university offering a 'puppy room' where students can take a few minutes between exams to de-stress with the furry friends. (Boris, please note - every London office, department store and tube carriage should have one of these as standard).

London life does not however lend itself well to pets, largely due to 9 to 5 jobs, no garden space and Cruella de Ville landlords. But when life gets stressful, Londoners need cuddle time - perhaps more than most.

Animal cafés like Lady Dinah's and the Sausage Dog Café will therefore offer the ultimate convenience for the city's 'generation rent' culture - part time pets, whose poo we do not need to deal with, but who we can be assured are being well looked after by the owners.

It's also great news for London's dating landscape. Animal-based activities, such as London Zoo and Mudchute Farm, can function as perfect quirky first date venues, so expect the new wave of animal cafés to be full of nervous couples, filling awkward silences with 'Oh look, that cat looks like Harry Styles!' or similar.

The rise and rise of the animal café began in Tokyo, where there are reportedly over 200 dog, cat, rabbit, reptile and even goat cafés. However it always seemed unlikely something like this could get off the ground here in the UK, where food standards and animal rights are quite rightly paramount.

Image: from pethealthinfo.org.uk

But thanks to successful crowd-fundraising campaigns, the pet cafés are on their way. And, reassuringly, the pioneers of both Lady Dinah's Cat Emporium and the Sausage Dog Café insist that their resident pets will be most loved on this planet, with both establishments complying by strict Animal Care Standards and Health and Safety laws.

Where will this craze end? After a day from hell, will a quick post-work puppy cuddle replace the need for a large glass of wine? It's certainly healthier. And, as long as we all remember that a dog is for life, not just a nice accompaniment to coffee, I am very much on board.

Make mine a Labrador.

Ridin' Solo in London

"Being solitary is being alone well: being alone luxuriously immersed in doings of your own choice, aware of the fullness of your own presence rather than of the absence of others." - Alice Koller

I'm back from the blogging wilderness. There is no real reason for the radio silence; sometimes you just need to stop, switch off, escape and reflect.

As a natural chatterbox, it has taken me years to appreciate these fleeting moments of solitude; only recently have I started to realise how much I value time spent by myself. Years of playground politics have conditioned us to feel conspicuous and paranoid without the comforting presence of others.

But you can't be lonely if you like the person you're alone with. Start enjoying your own company and you realise that a little bit of time to yourself is actually one of life's great pleasures, especially in London. There are so many amazing sights and sounds you can routinely miss, amidst daily distractions of city crowds, phone calls, emails, chatter, headphones and crying babies in the flat upstairs.

As Marilyn Monroe once said, "I restore myself when I'm alone." And let's face it, she was no loser.

"Do you want that to eat-in?"

If your automatic reaction to this question is to scuttle away with your lunch and eat it at your desk, this blog post is for you, my friend.

Lots of us are happy as Larry to eat alone when we're abroad, serenely soaking up the atmosphere in a beach bar or continental square while we watch an unfamiliar world go by - but eating or drinking by yourself in London seems more unnatural.

But you know what? Right now, I'm drinking a Frappucino in Starbucks on Kensington High Street (by myself) and no-one is staring! I don't know why that should be surprising; I certainly don't stare at people drinking coffee by themselves or shout 'Billy no mates!' at them - and if I did, quite frankly, I'd be the one freaking people out, not the poor bloke just trying to enjoy his muffin.

I'm also enjoying indulging in some top notch people-watching. So far, I've witnessed an awkward first date between a born-again Buddhist and a French guy who arrived on a skateboard and I've overheard little gems like "George, stop spitting in my hair!" (That wasn't from the dating couple, thank goodness).

London is full of wonderful lunching spots best enjoyed alone. The ritual of a solo visit to a street food market like Kerb in King's Cross, or Exmouth Market, allows you to fully appreciate the food in its own right. You can indulgently browse each stall without anyone getting impatient while you flip a coin to decide between Moroccan meatballs or a Kimchi burger, before taking your little box to the nearest al-fresco spot for an indulgent picnic for one.

Not all who wander are lost

I'm a big fan of spontaneous, aimless wandering. A recent stroll with a friend took us to Holland Park for the first time, where we spotted the first cherry blossom of the year in the Japanese Garden and witnessed an alarming stand-off between a peacock and a squirrel. I made a mental note to go there by myself with a book or a notepad next time I just need to escape.

When you're exploring London solo, there's all the time in the world to appreciate the little things, watch buskers, pop into bookshops, stop when you see something cool and take 'arty' photos as you go along.

It doesn't really matter where;  just choose an area with a name that's intriguing or fun to say (I like Chalk Farm, Little Venice, Primrose Hill, West India Quays, Pudding Mill Lane, Eel Pie Island...), jump on the tube and then pop out like a rabbit emerging from a warren, finding yourself in the middle of a brand new place. By venturing out of my usual haunts, I've started to piece together my geographical knowledge of London and discovered lots of hidden gems to subsequently share with my friends.

And don't forget to take out your headphones - it can be quite a revelation. Suddenly, you're engaged in the world around you, listening to the ducks in the park and the random snippets of strangers' conversations, and you don't jump out of your skin if someone actually talks to you.

Cinema: the final frontier

So I've mastered eating and wandering alone, but the last taboo is the humble cinema. No-one can say how or why this is any less socially acceptable than watching a film at home - but somehow it just is.

I have not actually done it myself, but I'd say I've mastered worse (albeit not through choice): the theatre. I had agreed to watch the notoriously terrifying play 'Ghost Stories' with two friends, but their train broke down and, as I stood outside the theatre at 7:27pm, I had two options; sacrifice my £30 ticket, or go through the whole horrific two-hour ordeal by myself. I chose the latter. Thankfully, the middle-aged couple to my left didn't seem to mind me screaming into their shoulders. I was never quite the same after I emerged from that theatre - but I felt brave.

Clearly I'm not completely immune to the shame of the 'Billy No Mates' label. Even as I write this post, I feel compelled to assure you that I am a socially functioning person with plenty of friends (really!), and I love nothing more than to spend time in their company.

But having been busy and sociable all week, I woke up to a gloriously springlike Sunday afternoon and I have filled it doing exactly what I feel like doing. Writing, wandering, window shopping and drinking coffee. London is my very own oyster and just for today, I'm not sharing it.

New Year's resolutions for the girl with no willpower

‘To change one's life; Start immediately. Do it flamboyantly. No exceptions.' - William James

Our vaguely healthy Mediterranean feast, shortly after a trolley dash in Waitrose

I often regard with bewildered awe those few people who can fulfil a New Year's Resolution.

January itself is completely at odds with the goals we set ourselves - drink less, lose weight and save money. Why do we choose the gloomiest month of the year, when we're back at work and still drowning in leftover booze and party food, to punish ourselves with a virtuous nun-like regime? In fact, if ever there was a time to escape and just enjoy life, it's now.

New Year should be a positive and exciting time, an opportunity to start afresh and see the next 12 months open up in front of you like an unwritten book (sorry, getting a bit Natasha Bedingfield on you there...).

A nice young man I once dated had - and I quote - a “bar chart in his head”, which would help him visualise if he had neglected one of his personal self-improvement goals, which included foreign languages, the gym, reading, painting and nutrition. If he hadn’t spent enough time on one of these in any given week, he would make up for it in another of these areas. Impressive...

But I, on the other hand, can be relied upon to hit the snooze alarm four times per morning, to faceplant the office tub of Celebrations at 3pm and to jump in a taxi rather than trawl the streets looking for a night bus.

In some ways I am quite capable of fulfilling certain promises to myself – but only if they are in some way pleasurable and involve a split-second decision, so I can't talk myself out of it. Yeah, I’ll get a spontaneous new haircut or jump out of a plane. But drink eight glasses of water, every day, forever? Change that lightbulb and fix my door handle so that I don’t get locked in a dark room every time I close the door? Hmm… sure. Maybe next week.

The number 1 New Year's resolution in the UK is, surprise surprise, to lose weight. But like most other people, as soon as I consciously decide I’m going to go on a diet, I seem to have cursed it to the realms of my unfulfilled resolutions where it lazes around, happy as Larry, alongside other vague intentions such as ‘save money’ and ‘procrastinate less’.

In fact, the only times I have ever lost significant amounts of weight have been a by-product of another circumstance; a dog that needs walking, a helpful bout of tonsilitus or running out of money and living on soup for a couple of weeks.

I’m certainly not condoning any of the above (except dog-walking) as healthy or effective ways to keep off the pounds of course. But I’ve realised that the only way I’m going to fulfil my resolutions this year is to make them happen ‘by accident’, and by replacing bad habits with nice ones.

So instead of the generic and unoriginal task of ‘losing weight’, I've decided to go for something a bit more fun, which will hopefully have a similar end result - I will invent and experiment with salad recipes throughout January. This goal is positive, creative, achievable and realistic… rather like a SMART objective, in fact.

There’s no time like the present to get started, having now completed the obligatory 'Noodle Phase' that invariably follows Christmas (when I crave big, fresh, exotic flavours but still need to satisfy my poor stretched stomach, which is still wondering where all the potatoes went). Now, I am finally ready to move on from phad thai, and enter a brave new era: The Salad Phase.

Salads don’t have to mean rabbit food – they can be colourful, exciting, easy to throw together and surprisingly substantial. I’ve already started tricking myself that salads are treats, not chores.

Yes, it's a One Direction mug. 

Selecting a 'salad buddy' can help - the process of creating our masterpieces has become a bit of a bonding ritual between me and my friend at work. Some of our favourite lunches include:

• Feta + parma ham + roasted peppers + pomegranate seeds + herb salad (above)
• Blue cheese + walnuts + pears + watercress
• Mozzarella + leftover chicken + tomatoes + avocado + basil

All of the above would have a drizzling of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Maybe even a squeeze of fresh lemon (much to the mocking of our colleagues, who find it all a bit ridiculous. Perhaps the walnut chopping was a bit far). But even with these extravagances, it still usually works out as around £3 per person per lunch, for a massive plate of delicious food.

Yes, there’s a borderline obese elephant in the room. What is remotely healthy about a big plate of cheese and meat, drowned in an oily dressing and decorated with a few token leaves?

Well, I’m no nutritionist but if it’s colourful and fresh, it's bound to be healthier than something beige or shop-bought. And there's no point excluding everything that's filling or delicious or I'd be straight back on the Fudge bars. For me, being balanced, cutting down on carbs and eating fresh is the quickest way to start feeling good again.

And failing that, whoever liked a smug, skinny, sober calorie-counter anyway?!

My January salad recipes (so far)

Pea and pancetta winter salad

Just fry a handful of pancetta (healthy!) for a few minutes and then remove from the pan and place on kitchen roll to absorb the oil.

Then add two finely sliced shallots to the pan until transparent, and then add some defrosted peas and tip the pancetta back into the pan until everything's warm through.

Before serving, stir through some crumbled feta and mint leaves.

Balinese chicken salad

I picked this one up in Ubud, Bali, at a cookery course and have now recycled this recipe for many picnics and buffets. It might look like a long list of ingredients but it's mostly just chopping... lots of chopping. (See me in action below!).

200g chicken breasts
2 teaspoons of turmeric
1 tablespoon ground coriander
6 tablespoons light olive oil
4 shallots, peeled and finely sliced
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely sliced
Half a teaspoon of fish sauce (naam pla)
Juice of one lime
Inner white part of a stem of lemongrass finely chopped
Finely sliced hot red chillies to taste
Iceberg lettuce (to wrap it in)

Place the chicken between two sheets of cling film and pound flat with a rolling pin. Combine the turmeric, coriander, salt and pepper and three tablespoons of the oil and coat the chicken. Marinate for 1 hour and then grill the chicken and leave to cool.

Combine the remaining oil and ingredients to make the salad mixture/dressing. When the chicken is cool, shred it with a fork and then toss it together with the salad mixture in a big bowl. I like to serve it garnished with fresh coriander, chilli and lime wedges, alongside big iceberg lettuce leaves for DIY wrapping purposes.

Tastes even better the next day!

Random Indian salad

Warm a tablespoon of mango chutney and a generous pinch of ground cumin (or crushed toasted cumin seeds if you can be bothered) with a few glugs of light olive oil in a pan. Add some prawns until they're hot and a bit golden, and then remove from the heat.

In the meantime, chop and combine the following ingredients:

Mango
Fresh coriander and mint
Spinach leaves
Cherry tomatoes
Chilli
Carrot
Cucumber
(or whatever else you've got lying around).

Then tip the contents of the pan (including the mango-ey oil) onto the salad mixture and stir it all around. Then just crumble a poppadom on top if you fancy, to add texture.