They just don't have a post code...
(Go up Caledonian Rd from Pentonville Rd)
So we're in the area. It's raining. I've just been propositioned with spending £40 to repair boots that I love dearly but barely cost half of that, and it's raining. Like a lot. So feeling wet and depressed, but £40 up, we goes for lunch.
I'm writing this to tell you just not to bother with Burrito Café. It's perfectly fine, inoffensive black beans and pulled pork, but I'm simply not in the business for dat. I want life changing burritos. Keep walking pass and pick yourself up an over priced sandwich from Drink, Shop & Do.
Charing Cross Rd, but there's
another one in Angel. And everywhere else.
Now Jamie is a fan of Chipotle so naturally Liz and I are also fans of Chipotle. I like to think this is the healthy burrito joint, you can have like brown rice and they source all of their ingredients sustainability. Yes it's £8 for a burrito, but they were happy cows and you just can't put a price on a smiling cow. We've had many Chipotle experiences and when you turn 20, having just drank champagne in a Weatherspoon, the cynicism of 'your twenties' hasn't quite set in and you feel like the king of London, the little baskets they 'give' you make excellent hats for the bus ride home.
The one in Kensington, just off of Picadilly.
So it's summer in London, the city is ablaze with plebian gentlemen with no tops on and it's beautifully silent because the little blighters* are still in school. We're scurrying down Picadilly because Liz needs a wee and we're late for a Francis Boulle lecture. Yep. We simply must eat. I am not meeting my second favourite cast member on an empty stomach, y'know? Feeling all W1 we nip into Whole Foods and pick up our favourite hot snack.
Such fun to be had at the counter. What I think is high-larious is to use Americanisms to try and break the ice with the friendly authentic American serving you. Swap 'yes please I would like some corriander' to 'yeah sure I'd love some cilantro' and watch the vast chasm of awkwardness awaken between you and the kind man. As you fall into said chasm your friend (Liz) shall throw tumbleweeds at you whist you pay for your £9 burrito.
Not to be eaten with a red face, still scurrying down Picadilly, still needing a wee littering black beans and cilantro.
* I love children, really I do, but all I want is to go to the Science museum in August without joining the queue at 6:15am.
We frequented the Chancery Lane branch but big up to the one in Angel.
We love Chilango! They give students actual free food. Like you don't have to sign up for shitty emails from NUS, go on a ski trip, give blood or anything, and every so often they give away free burritos on certain days after 5pm. Not to miss out on a free edible Mexican party, Liz and I arrived at 4.38pm so we could spend the next 22 minutes salivating and passing comments on the employed people with jobs going to their meetings in offices. I went chicken, Liz went pork. So delicious. That is all.
That is the first installment. We are still researching whilst we continue to inch towards the next hole on our belts. When we hit the next wheaty jack pot I'll be sure to let you know what, where and how.