Rice

So yesterday evening wile feeling somewhat upset over things a quick and not overly expensive source of food needed to be found. In Piccadilly Gardens there is this big stupid concrete wall by the tram stop with a Cafe Nero and a place called Rice tucked under it. It's a fast and furious oriental-food-in-a-little-box type of place and really takes fast food to a different level. It's clean and open and you can watch as the guys whack your food in a wok. Rice also does noodles which is what I had, with beef and little mangetout in it, picked randomly off the list. Definitely recommended. They do need to do something about the door at one end of the place as it was slightly ajar, lacking a handle to close it with and letting in the arctic gales.

Following that, some drinks with a friend, discussion into some of the whys and wherefores of life. After she went I walked a few yards and saw another friend at a very very stupid gig. All in all a most positive night.

Journey to the centre of Earth

Yet another tucked away hidden gem of the northern quarter is the Earth vegetarian café. It shares a rather amazing old warehouse building with the Buddhist centre - and given the large golden Buddharupa at the end of the dining area probably shares a little more than just a building.



So why am I here today. I’m in the throes of paranoia. Basically I’ve got something on the go relationship-interest-wise, with someone who is stunningly beautiful and cute and clearly pretty nicely warped. But for now it’s just that. A bit of interest. And I’ve got to stop kidding myself that anything will necessarily come of it - or on the other side talking myself down into thinking that I’ve already fucked it all up by sending silly messages or just generally being a nutbag looser. Where we are at at the moment was some kind of loose arrangement for a date tomorrow but no response to my last missive and suggestions re what to do. Thus paranoid.

So here goes the next phase of my mid life crisis. The self-doubt phase. The thing is I suppose I’ve never really done dating per-se. Is there something about me that makes people not want to communicate with me? Am I upsetting people and they are being too lilly livered to let me know? Am I just a douchebag? Am I actually so marvellous that I’m intimidatingly marvellous? Or am I just one of those most dangerous of creatures: a marvellous douchebag.

So I’ve been thinking about these kind of things. While doing so I ate a plate of mushroom roulade, broccoli, roast spuds and gravy. It was a good fill of food - the roulade thing quite cinnamonny, gravy pretty passable considering lack of meat, the veg very fresh and not over-done. The kicker though was that this and a large freshly squeezed (and admittedly astounding) drink of pear and ginger came to OVER A TENNER. Cripes it’s a canteeny-type place and prices like that make no sense whatsoever. On my way out I realised that the drink was pushing 4 quid and the veg/spud/gravy is considered 3 separate items on top of the dish itself. Harumph.

A saving grace though - the wifi is free and paswordless and the people while a little dozy with the delivery of my juice were very pleasant. All in all not a bad option for lunch - but when bringing vegetarian friends here do remember to select the wealthy ones or go sparingly on the sides. I will now restore the electricity to Buddha’s lighting array which I unplugged on arrival - as I am in a state of Moksha however this offence will not count towards my karma either way.