Hello, thank you, and welcome. I love you for being here!
Add to List is my Sunday round-up. It’s the small things that brought me joy, evoked an emotional reaction, or became some short-lived stability in the past seven days.
Obsession
Italy is always a good idea.
With 36 hours before take-off my sister and I booked flights to Italy last Sunday evening. In fact, I say we — I emerged from a cinema date to a series of screenshot and car hire emails from her. And boy, was I grateful she took the reins. It was such a brilliant trip.
London was hot (might be too ‘ot); my diary was free of mandatory meetings (a real freelance perk); and there was a welcoming breeze in the Garfagnana mountains simply calling my name, pulling me back to terracotta twilight, long evenings having some of the stupidest, but then profound conversations, and a natural landscape that almost always allows me to see everything within my own horizon.
Almost exactly a year ago, I resigned from corporate life before I headed to this exact house for three months. Here, I wrote a big chunk of a novel attempt (still WIP — don’t ask me, pls). Every time I return to this house the experience is familiar, but distinct; each visit revealing new layers, like a lover you’re growing old with. Everything feels expansive, yet safe in this place. It truly is the most meaningful place on earth to me.
Our four days in the mountains were relaxed (one almost derailed thanks to a hangover and minor bump with a Range Rover wanker — I say bump, I was totally stationary — it was absolutely his fault). Yet amidst sitting on the terrace watching the swifts and the swallows soar overhead on their own circular planes, we moved in our own planes of relaxing, yet moving to the next stage of getting things done. Although I was on holiday of sorts, I am confident I might have completed more work than I would have done in London.
Freelancing in London on a hot day is near impossible: many distractions (lidos, alcoholic drinks, off-peak gym classes with industrial-strength air-con), and a feeling of you should be maxing out on the fact you don’t have a corporate whip whacking down on your metaphorical desk.
Instead, scheduling my day around remote journalism interviews, newsletter sends, the local market opening hours, and our designated swim of the day helped me carve out an efficiency I’ve been lacking in London of late. And anywhere I get to drink cheap (but brilliant) wine and watch the stars is only going to do good things for anyone.
Confession
Said I was going to watch the F1 movie last week; didn't make it. Yet, on Sunday I caught The Ballad of Wallis Island.
With a small but utterly sparkling cast (Tim Key, Carey Mulligan, Tom Basden, Sian Clifford, and Akemnji Ndifornyen) this film is an absolute must see. Bring back the heartfelt comedy, I say.
A lugubrious eccentric (Key) with some of the best one-liners in this decade’s film history has plans to orchestrate a reunion for a a couple of washed-up, ex-connected rock stars (Basden and Mulligan). Throw in a simple village sweetheart (Clifford); and an unlikely bird-watching husband (Ndifornyen) then force them all to maroon their feelings together with revived music. Sounds weird? It is. Wonderful? Absolutely. Will definitely make you laugh…
Shook
…and possibly cry. In a good way.
Cook
You guessed it…
This week’s food diary is Italian-themed, naturally. In fact, ahead of the spontaneous trip it turns out I was unknowingly preparing by devouring a margarita from 50Kalò, Trafalgar Square. After Jay Rayner’s praise for underdog, Breadstall last weekend, it’s sparked a personal interrogation as to what I think is the best pizza in London. 50Kalo is amazing; it gets extra brownie points for just how mentally Italian it feels. I mean this, in the sense that there are strange life-size images of chef Ciro on the wall menacingly staring at you some kind of Lord of the Pizza Manor; decor that doesn’t quite make sense? And gauche ruby red slipper pizza oven. There’s no crust like home. Unsure if it takes the crown for the best (without further taste-testing) but it’s up there. I’d say top 5.
And then of course, in Italy there was a great spread of food including:
Baccalà mantecato, maccheroni pomodoro pecorino, rigatoni della casa, Gigi Trattoria, Lucca — what’s the indicator for the best city restaurants in Italy? The location. If they are still standing but are located far away from a central square, or the main amphitheatre and have a hype about them, then usually it’s a sign you should visit. This one was no different; located in a car park next to a City Conad next to a derelict Art-Deco Mercato. Established in 1962, it’s a blend of Venetian and Lucchese cuisine; with meatballs, cod (baccala) making an appearance as well as the ragu-based pasta of Tuscany. I had maccheroni fatta a casa with tomatoes and pecorino that tasted so fresh and light — almost as if I was biting into a raw tomato, and then sticking out my tongue to ingest the pasta sheet as it comes through the machine. Sublime.
baccalà mantecato Tagliata alle erbe aromatiche, Eliseo, Gallicano — a family favourite of ours. A tagliata (literally translates to ‘sliced’) is the best steak you’ll ever have. Plus, somehow the fact it’s pre-cut for you like a toddler makes it easier to finish after a huge plate of tortelli al ragù.
Book
So Good to See You, Francesca Hornak
While sitting in the Tuscan mountains, I’ve also been spending time in Aix thanks to my latest read by Francesca Hornak. Set across a four-day bout of ‘organised fun’ at glamorous provencal wedding, this book is a funny, warm examination of the lies we tell ourselves and others for the sake of social pressure, and what happens when we let our feelings bubble to the surface after years of unspoken emotions and one too many glasses of champagne…
Look
Views.
Fashion was a low priority this week. Not sure I even looked in a mirror once? Too busy absorbing this view. Vanity is overrated. Burrata is not.
Can’t Stop Scanning
Tiny mice homes made from Wimbledon’s recycled tennis balls.
Too cute, can’t cope.
Forward Planning
Tomorrow I’m setting off on another press trip to the Caribbean. Honestly, yes. I know, I know. Pinch me. Hate me. Unfollow me. ( jk— pls don’t. I love you all for reading this.)
It’s exactly a year since I decide to take the plunge into freelance / unemployment / chasing my dream life.
People always say: Leap and the net will appear! — I didn’t realise it could be as literal as a hammock net hanging outside your bedroom window. Not complaining at all. Not one bit. I am a very lucky little bean.
Cannot wait for Caribbean dispatches....