moreish

This is the word I'm going to import into my vocabulary from this trip. It means exactly what it sounds like it means - it's a descriptor for something (generally food but not always) so good that you want more of it. So: this past weekend, I discovered that hot Indian food you can pick up on the go at supermarket chains such as Sainbury's can actually be moreish (and trust me, no one is more surprised by this than I am!). I got caught in a cold December rain and was tempted by the Vegetable Makhani Masala with Pulao Rice: it was steaming hot and the thought of going home and having to cook dinner was not appealing. It was moreish - and it was surprisingly spicy, for something that is sold at a mainline supermarket.

It made me think that I should have gone to see the Dandy Warhols play at the Astoria (which has to be one of most written about music venues ever). I was minding my own business, clutching the books I'd bought on Charing Cross Road when I was accosted by a guy who was desperate to sell me a ticket 'to see the Dandies for the last time....' That caught my attention but it turned out to be the last time 'for this year, yah' so I decided to take my chances in the years to come and went home instead. But hey, if I enjoyed a plastic ready-meal in London, maybe I'd have enjoyed the Dandies too. Ah well, I'll never know. Speaking of music, the only conversation I've had on the tube comes to mind: there was a lot of confusion this weekend because a number of the Underground lines were shut down for maintainence. So after being completely unable to figure out how I was supposed to get to where I was supposed to go, I finally asked a guy who was standing next to me studying the large-scale map of the underground on the wall at Leicester Square if he was from London. He was, and after assuring himself that I wasn't a maniac ('cos of course only maniacs talk to strangers on the Tube in London), he helped me figure how to get to Liverpool Street without using the Circle line. Anyway, in the process we established that I was from Canada. 'Oright, Canada. Nickelback.' It turns out that Nickelback has a new album out - or maybe it's just out here now... whatever... and there is a massive amount of advertising for this album all over London's Underground. Not moreish, I'm afraid.

Sunday, I went on a Harry Potter walk, or, to be precise, a 'The London that Inspired Harry Potter' walk organized by London Walks. I know, I know, not the kind of thing you'd go to without some trepidation but it turned out to be moreish. For a cold Sunday evening in December, there were a lot of people there and that they were all adults too made me feel less ridiculous. But we were led down the tiniest of alleyways in the heart of London, places that I'd never have guessed existed - and it must be said, places that remind you of Knockturn Alley and of Diagon Alley; we got to see the red telephone box that will let you into the Ministry of Magic but only if you know the right number to dial, and sadly, none of us did... and so on. All good fun and a nice way to spend a couple of hours in London.