Roffing about town has been much harder of late – mainly because we’re in the midst of a dietary revolution involving 5-a-day, reduced fat and increased roughage. Why should that make things harder? Well, we’re losing weight making it even colder (relatively speaking) outside without our healthy whale blubber to insulate our limp organs. Not just that, but the extra roughage has made it nigh on impossible to venture more than 15 minutes away from a toilet we trust… yeah that’s right – we have toilets that we trust. We want to avoid the 2004 situation where, whilst a trainee, RofAboutTown was happily sat enjoying laying cable when we received a double tap on our shoe from the cubicle next to us. The next few minutes are a blur, but it involved unexpected (and unwelcome) protrusions from the dividing wall between bogs. We wouldn’t think about it at all, but it was, conveniently, how we met Piers n’ Maffew. JUST KIDDING – it wasn’t a toilet.

Sorry, all this blue chat is because we were hijacked the other night in Angel. It was a totally pleasant evening out with a friend when he suggested a jaunty trip to the Screen on the Green – a regular hotbed of cool cinematic sophistication. If you haven’t been before, it’s one of those uber-cool places where all the blokes seem to be wearing black jeans and black t-shirts regardless of the time of day or weather. The ladies invariably wear horn-rimmed spectacles and vintage clothing of some era that passed us by. It is, in short, bloody cool. The screen is high definition of some sort, the chairs (and sofas) are so comfy you’re liable to fall asleep and miss the film. At the back, a beacon of light in the dark recesses (the surprisingly large recesses) sits a bar churning out genuinely good food and drink for quiet consumption during the film. We say film, but we probably mean Cinematic Masterpiece that the lads in black t-shirts and black skinny jeans chatter about in the paradoxically hushed yet piercingly loud voices intended to advertise their intelligence, imagination and general understanding of the meaning of every second of what you just saw.

What we did actually see there was the latest offering from Steve (Rodney) McQueen – Shame. It’s highly acclaimed in many intellectual circles (circles that were formed, no doubt, following his equally highly acclaimed Hunger). It was actually a very special screening – the black t-shirts had turned into white shirts with thin black ties and a practically see-through black jumper that probably does nothing in the current weather. Frankly, that put us off – as well as seeing Michael Fassbender’s young private parts flapping about on large screen. It was intimidating (but tastefully done). It’s definitely beautifully shot and there are possibly some deep and meaningful themes that passed us by (maybe we were distracted by the weird and wonderful exploits of Mini-Fassbender) but we didn’t love it. That said, people that act far smarter than us have suggested it is insightful and moving. We’d suggest seeing it at Screen on the Green given its dark and cool recesses to hide any blushes.

http://www.everymancinema.com/cinemas/screen-on-the-green/fri-20-01-12/whats-on

After an evening watching Fassbender flop his kimchi about, we were yearning for some Korean

After all that smut we figured a healthy dose of (possibly) unhealthy Korean – it cleanses the soul by replacing it with a spicy substance that burns initially, but the memories of which bring you back to where you encountered it previously. We’re not sure why we do it to ourselves – perhaps it’s like that strange thing about childbirth where mothers ‘forget’ the pain and suffering encountered during labour. Apparently it encourages them to have more children (or at least it doesn’t discourage them). We’re not quite sure what gene or enzyme works its magic to ensure parents forget about the chronic lack of sleep, frustrated crying and nappies though. Maybe that’s just the gin and teetering mental stability. Anyway… the point is we forget how spicy effects us on the day of ingestion. We have sensitive tummies.

Thus, armed with gum and mild antacids, we ventured into the ‘Seoul-arium’ near Centre Point. It’s almost certainly not referred to as Little Korea but seeing as this tiny strip of about half a dozen shops contains 3-4 Korean cafes/restaurants, we’d like to think that some wag somewhere has christened it as such. Maybe that’s just us.

Upon rocking up to St Giles High Street in the shadow of Richard Seifert’s errr… most famous but possibly least popular creation, we see the huddle of Korean eateries – each with confusing ‘foreign’ on the outside. We could barely remember where we ate last time, until the familiar door of ‘Po Chung Ma Cha’ or ‘Po Cha’ for short. We say the door is familiar mainly because it’s an ordinary house door that looks most unwelcoming – exactly the sort of thing we like to see in the doorway of places we want to visit (we refer you to the urges of black t-shirt people above). It’s not, frankly, the most illustrious of restaurants with cool gleaming widescreen tv’s or that new-vintage look that seems to be popular, but we don’t care about that – we care that the food (the spicy pork with rice) is tasty and reasonably priced. Both of these things are ticked and, judging from the way it is always overflowing with customers, we’re not the only ones that enjoy a bit of lunchtime Korean spice. The Korean bbq items also look attractive, though we haven’t yet gathered up the courage to try it. For us, the spicy pork contains the right addictive items to keep us happily entertained and coming back for more. We hear the soondubu jjigae is worth a look here too… though we’re too intimidated by the spelling to order it.

Po Cha

56 St Giles High Street
LondonWC2H 8LH

The world seems to be teetering on the edge of recession – I say world, I do of course mean Europe. We’re a bit fed up with all this havoc – can’t everyone just agree to go back to bartering and reset the whole financial system? If that happens we might be able to get an upgrade on RoF Towers on the cheap – that would be nice. We have our eye on a few towers with extra garden space and closer to nice schools and playgrounds for the little Roffers to have fun in. Actually, what with a recession, we might still be able to get something on the cheap – though we’ve not heard as much out of people normally screaming ‘the property market will collapse and every property in the world will de-value by 40%’. Maybe things will stay equal.

It’s at times like these we think of ways to alleviate the doom and gloom…. Hawaii is one way – a beach holiday would do most people a world of good – though actually we’re a little bit skint at the moment so the best we’ve managed is a visit to Kua ‘Aina. Replacing an old favourite of ours off Carnaby Street, KA comes with a global reputation for producing the tastiest burgers around… They originated from Hawaii (like many good things like Hawaii 5-0 and… other stuff) but have spread to Japan and, now, Blighty. We’re extremely grateful.

 The burgers are great here. One of the best in London we think… we have no idea why though – it’s all so simple. The burger itself is large, juicy, flavoursome and cooked well. It’s happily put on a bun with your choice from a large selection of topics (some more exotic than others), all freshly prepared. The bun is tasty too. Aside from all that, the fries that are crispy and moreish beyond belief… All in all, KA is definitely worth a visit – it may only be a small outlet, but we can foresee big things for this chain. Aloha.

 http://www.kua-aina.co.uk/

The new Five-O crew don't look like they indulge in burgers too often.

Phew – that was a bit exotic. Hawaiian shirts, colourful décor and things like pineapple on your burger… it can get a little exhausting which is probably why we followed it up with a visit to one of our favourite pubs – Sir Richard Steele on Haverstock Hill. It’s definitely not boring, but it’s more traditional…. And is named after a writer and founder of the Spectator. Very nice.

The pub itself is home to live music and a comedy club (not on competing nights) and, frankly, looks more at home in the trendier Camden than it does on the Belsize Park end of Haverstock Hill as it blares out music from bands you’ve possibly never heard of and serves up ales and bitters you’ve rarely encountered in London. It is a delight of English pubness – full of trendy people (and some celeb regulars), great drink and entertainment.

Even the entertainment, whilst something you would expect to find in a typical Camden spot (comedy, music, clubbing), is done to the best extreme. The comedy club, for instance, has housed numerous famed comedians Harry Hill was a regular here) – there must be something special about the place.

The food too is exceptional and eclectic with dishes from Thai cuisine nestled amongst traditional pub favourites like burgers and ploughmans – all constructed with care using the finest fresh ingredients. Much like everything else about this old boozer – it’s surprisingly good. We couldn’t have wandered into a better pub.

 http://sirrichardsteele.com/

A little bit like Gaddafi we’ve been under the cosh recently – unlike him though we’ve not been spending our days and nights holed up somewhere – we’ve been busy trying to find delightful gems for you to enjoy (preferably without the unrest). Hopefully they will be a little closer to home than Tripoli too…. and more accessible.

That said, this weekend we ventured to Monkey Nuts in deepest darkest Crouch End. Ok, it’s neither that dark nor deep but given we’ve become accustomed to the opulent surroundings of RoF Towers, we fear any ‘field trip’ out of our orange towers and onto the mean streets. Indeed, RoFAboutTown is seen as something of an outreach project from some of the other Roffers who can sit on their velvet thrones, peering very occasionally to see what Legal Alien’s up to on the boards. Anyway, it was only weeks ago that Crouch End was in the throes of wild riots and unchecked looting – we understand a blockbusters was broken into round here. Chilling times (it’s ok though the rest of CE was actually untouched but we’re still nervy as we stalk the battlegrounds. We only felt safe when in our bright orange bulletproof vest (‘RoFAboutTown’ emblazoned across the back).

So, with trepidation and sparked only by our confidence that the thugs from nearby Hood Green (Wood Green) would still be in their youthful slumber at 10am on a Sunday, we ventured out into Crouch End and stumbled into Monkey Nuts – a rather pleasant upmarket café restaurant place. This was something of an oasis – stylish booths and decoration, we began to feel our paranoia and anxiety subside to the soothing sounds of Jack Johnson (or someone similar) crooning over the speakers. Our fears diminished further still when we saw the mouth-watering delicacies on offer – burgers, grills and a delightful brunch menu that included such lovely trappings as Bubble Royal (smoked salmon, avocado, bubble and squeak, lashings of béarnaise) – all available for a reassuringly middle-class price of £7.95. We had, it seemed, found a haven of civilisation in this Crouch End wasteland – others too as the Nuts was pleasingly full of young families and polo shirt wearing lawyer-types. Clearly Crouch End isn’t as rough as we thought – though I’m sure they’re silver circle lawyers at best. Probably West End types (the non-meeja sort as they all congregate around West Hampstead don’t they?). Anyway – irrational fear of N8 aside, Monkey Nuts proved to be an excellent place to laze and consume copious amounts of gorgeous food whilst surrounded by pleasant company. Highly recommended for brunch.

http://www.monkeynuts.biz/

W Hotel, Monkey Nuts... Bush in a monkey suit nicely ties everything together.

On the otherside of the world we ventured to Soho – somewhere we’re delighted to frequent (for various salubrious reasons) where we bumped into the Spice Market perched on the corner of Leicester Square and intruding on the boundaries of China Town. At the bottom of the opulent W hotel (and strangely next to ‘M&M London – an entire shop dedicated to M&M’s?! The point of kids going to candy stores is to be spoilt by choice… not have it thrust down their throats) is the Spice Market.

We popped along to the ‘Southeast Asian’ inspired restaurant-cum-bar. It’s certainly very popular with diners – winning numerous awards and recommendations despite only opening earlier this year. Clearly W is looking to make its mark on London so brought in some culinary big guns. The food itself is a smattering of all those Asian restaurants you like to frequent – Thai, Malaysian, Chinese, Indian etc and, whilst no doubt impressive, we weren’t quite drawn to them (£19 for a duck red curry…).

We did, however, take a splash on the drinks. It would, after all, be rude to vacate such opulent surroundings (dim-lighting, numerous brass coloured lampshades dangling from the deceptively high ceilings and floor to ceiling windows) – we have no doubt that, had we not settled down with a family, we would be spending copious amounts of money to dazzle dates here before striking out immediately afterwards. The drink prices are probably best described as… ‘punchy’. Actually, Warren Buffett would describe it as punchy - us normal people would probably call it extortionate, but therein lies the charm. Sure, it’s expensive, but you get what you pay for – peaceful surroundings, itself cocooned by the crazy Chinatown and Leicester Square. The drinks are expertly put together (£20+ for a brandy? Good grief) as you would hope and it is a cool place to hang out for some pre or post dinner drinks. You’ll definitely look the part.

http://www.spicemarketlondon.co.uk/