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121. AMY WINEHOUSE AT KOKO

martinworster — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 03:14:50 +0000

Life moves in funny ways. I was watching Amy Winehouse on a music channel in Hi Def as she performed at London's Koko. Koko's used to be the Camden Palace, a venue I used to go to regularly in the late 80s to a night called Twist & Shout where they played sixties music. Here I was almost twenty years later sitting in my living room in California as Ms Winehouse sang sixties soul retro numbers at the same venue, on the same stage I used to bounce around on as a teenager.

Amy looked remarkably good in Hi Def. I couldn't make out any signs of self harm. She's like a cartoon character, a crack head Olive Oil with a remarkable talent and voice. She's a proper artist who lives her art, perhaps too much as all her escapades and struggles are played out in lo def in the tabloids. I was pleased to be seeing her this time on TV doing what she's best at. She mumbled in between songs. Then when singing she makes such an incredible noise for such a small being.

Koko looks all gleaming and spanking as a new music venue for London in the new millenium - especially in Hi Def, almost unreal, newer than new. Quite unlike when I used to frequent it to listen to The Who, James Brown, The Stones, The Kinks, Aretha etc blast out into the smokey, beer soaked hall. Admittedly my memories are faded, they could do with some upconverting into Hi Def. Okay so I've over use the Hi Def analogy - I'll stop now. I remember regulars used to dance in sixties retro clothes (greasy quiffs, Converse hi tops, Lee Jeans) and dance in formation to some of the songs. We were just sweaty public schoolboys, drunk on Stella and perhaps a cheeky spliff before dancing. It was on a Wednesday night - a school night.

Camden Palace was shabby then with chewing gum on the floors and an air of faded glamour. I remember walking around the club and there were photos of Boy George and Steve Strange dotted around, relics to another of the Palaces incarnations as a hot spot for the New Romantics in the early 80s. The venue keeps reinventing itself. Thank you Amy in Hi Def for the retro memories.

Business as usual?

bridgetfox — Mon, 05 May 2008 09:10:46 +0000

On Saturday we went for a stroll in Islington. Instead of leaflets to deliver, we had Eggs royale at Med Kitchen, overlooking Islington Green; bliss. Then on to Camden Passage, where we bought something lovely & vintage for my sister in law Ros (a belated birthday present). I'm not going to say what in case she reads it before she receives it...

Camden Passage is seeing the arrival of more chains (albeit upmarket ones - Reiss, FrostFrench, LomBok) replacing some of the independent antiques traders that give the area its unique character. Now there are lots of reasons why London's upmarket international antiques trade has been suffering; weak dollar, fears of terrorism, modernist decor, economic downturn etc. And if an individual trader chooses to relocate or retire that's their privilege. But there's a specific threat in Islington.

The Mall, home to dozens of small units, has changed hands, and the developer has applied for permission to knock out the internal partitions, effectively evicting them. Two or three of the units are already vacant as traders have anticipated the worst and moved elsewhere. But Islington Council is having none of it; last week the South Area planning committee threw out the application. They had to do it on historic building grounds; there's no planning law protecting one type of retail over another. That's something the Sustainable Communities Act could let communities change, but despite a waffly bit of guidance, there's no sign of action to implement this from the Government yet.

Paul A. Young Chocolates in Islington

RWAppleWannabe — Thu, 06 Sep 2007 22:43:09 +0000

Somehow I managed to live in Islington for several months before I realized that hidden away just off of busy, somewhat chain-fied Upper Street is Camden Passage, a series of pretty, pedestrianized walkways lined with small (read: non-chain), charming shops.

Paul A. Young Fine Chocolates is one of these shops.

London being a great world city, there's no shortage of high-end, artisanal chocolateries in town. There's L'Artisan du Chocolat, purveyors of chocolates to restos as revered as the Fat Duck and located just east of uber-posh Sloane Square. (Though it feels disloyal to my 'hood to say so, the jasmine tea chocolates and the chocolate-covered almonds at L'Artisan are pretty damn delish).

Maison du Chocolat has a London outpost near Green Park, and the Chocolate Society promotes its fresh and varied goodies in Belgravia.

But in the end, there's no place like [the] home [neighborhood], and I like that when I walk into Paul Young, the service is friendly, casual, but knowledgeable. Paul Young himself (he of the flaming red hair) is often working in the shop, and the chocolate flavors offered, just like good restaurant menus, always change. Admittedly, some of the flavors, like marmite-and-Ingredient du Jour, are so "creative" as to not appeal to me and my relatively boring chocolate tastes.

Last weekend, I brought our visiting-from-NY-and-DC friends, Laura and Julie, to Paul Young, and while Laura picked out two boxes of chocolates (they're so fresh and delicate that the shop insists you eat them within five days of purchase - a challenge we can all rise to, no?), Jon and I pigged out on free samples of brownies so rich that you begin to think you'd gladly pay the £2.75 for one, except then you consider the size of those things and you wonder how one person could possibly finish something that dense and intense?

So we kept things "light" and opted instead for the ice cream covered in hot chocolate. One scoop of chocolate brownie-and-pecan ice cream, and another of rose petal-masala ice cream. Both flavors tasty on their own, but even more fun when the molten chocolate poured on top immediately turned into a rich, bittersweet shell as it hit the ice cream. Like a high-end Magic Shell.

Definitely make Paul Young a destination if you even sort of like chocolate. And if you don't want to take my word for it, then read the New York Times article about it.