Buried in the middle of Shoreditch High Street; Bar Kick is a fantastic venue with a football theme. It’s two floors house a number of babyfoot, or as we say in the UK – table football tables, giving you the makings for a competitive night.
After organising a table football tournament at work during the world cup, and with interest not subsiding after Spain took the trophy; I decided to hold the grand final at Bar Kick. Much more glamorous than the crappy, bent tables in the office.
The atmosphere of the bar is amazing. Everyone is really enthusiastic about the games and, while there may be the odd gloat after winning a game, all the clientèle have a happy demeanour.
The drinks menu includes a wide range of cocktails and bottled beers. I must also really commend the DJ they had on till about 10:00 pm too as he did a fantastic mix of tune you knew to have a jig too and introducing new artists.
Am exemplary night, recommended for all.
For more information you can visit their website or via the contact details below.
Bar Kick, 127 Shoreditch High Street, London. E1 6JE
Tel: 020 7739 8700
Fax: 020 7613 2509
Open: Mon – Wed: 12 noon – 11pm, Thurs- Sat: 12 noon – Midnight, Sun: 12 noon-10.30
I met a guy on Guardian Soul Mates that sounded interesting and had common interests, especially music taste. He was quick to offer me a ticket to an upcoming gig. Crystal Fighters were playing at Barfly in Camden. However, when I met him, he was much shorter than anticipated, and his photos must have been a decade old, so I decided to cut my loses.
Unfortunately, the bar was so crammed that it was impossible to make a quick exit. So, I decided to give myself a moment to think and headed to the lavatories. As I walked into the cubical, I noticed the window was open. I seized the opportunity, shut the toilet seat, and used the systems as a ladder to climb out the window.
Finally, my Lara Croft ambitions saved me from a potential ‘Womb Raided’ situation later that evening.
Following a massive night of clubbing and very little sleep, I went to visit a guy whom I had been on a couple of dates. He could tell I was a bit worse-for-wear, so invited me to have a nap in his bed before we headed out for the evening.
After an hour or two, I woke up and found I had sweated profusely and the bedding was soaking wet. It looked like a snow-angel, but rather than snow, it was a revolting sweaty imprint of my body on the sheets and pillow. As we were heading out, I turned the bed down, so it could air and dry and left the bedroom light off to avoid drawing attention to the stain.
We returned to his property a couple of hours later and went to get into bed. Entering the room, I was happy to observe the head end of the sheets and pillow had nicely dried. Unfortunately, I hadn’t folded the duvet all the way down; there was still a significant wet patch in the middle of the bed. Now the scene was even worse as it appeared that I had wet the bed!
Mortified the guy thought I didn’t have bladder control, I was quick to apologise and explain what had happened while I assisted him in changing the bedding. I have been invited back and have stayed over again, so thankfully I think he accepted my explanation.
Flavour Bastard is nestled into the north end of Frith Street, in the heart of London’s Soho district. The restaurant, which opened September 2017, was founded by Pratap Chahal, of That Hungry Chef fame, and Vic Singh. On their website, Flavour Bastard claims to ‘Take vibrant flavours from around the world’ and ‘Remove rules and traditions’ to offer a unique dining experience.
The menu’s designed for sharing, with three tiers of plates available to diners – Tiny plates from £3.50, Small plates from £7.50, Sweet plate from £7.50. On our visit, there was only one dish that was over £10 – Burford brown egg, chestnut puree, olive crumble, raw celeriac and shimeji (£7.50), accompanied by the optional black truffle (additional £10.00). My date and I have a selection of tiny and small plates accompanied by a bottle of wine, and the bill came to approximately £65.
Overall, I was personally not a huge fan of the food. I found some of the flavour combinations jarring to my pallet and felt there was an overuse of Turmeric in a couple of the dished we tried. Probably the most successful dish of the evening was the TFC (Tandoori Fried Chicken – £7) that offered Indian depth of flavour to what would otherwise have been a ubiquitous dish. The Bastard Hot Sauce (£1) had an overpowering vinegar base, which I found unappealing, but was most disappointed with A quintet of pumpkin and squash (£8). However, the presentation of the dishes was consistently excellent and other diners, seated next to us, waxed lyrical about how much they loved the cuisine, so please be aware my previous remarks are subjective. The conflicting opinions on the food provided easy conversation throughout the meal, resulting in no awkward silences during the date.
The tables at Flavour Bastard are positioned close together, and the place was filled to the brim by the time we left at about 21:00 on a Friday evening. This bustle made it hard to hear one and other at times and not ideal for more intermate discussions – the table next to us could hear every word of our conversation. Despite this, there was a pleasant ambience and sharing the food helped to heighten the romance of the evening.
Flavour Bastards Summary
- The food and drinks are both very reasonably priced
- Excellent venue to impress a date with your culinary knowledge
- The unusual menu offered multiple talking points throughout the evening
- Tables are very close together, and loud music can make it hard to maintain an intermate discussion
- The menu would not be very suitable for some dietary requirements (e.g. Vegan, FODMAP, etc.)
- Second date with a foodie
- 2 stars
Have you been to Flavour Bastards? If you have, then tell us about your experience in the comments section below. Or, if you have, you can make a reservation with OpenTable.
The Marketer is tall, German, handsome and very well endowed. So, I didn’t mind when things deteriorated from dating to booty calls. I mean, I would have preferred to have been girlfriend material, rather than the 1:00 am afterthought, but I could appreciate that he was out of my league (he claimed to have previously dated Kelly Brook), so I was happy just to have been invited at all.
On this fateful night, I was ushered upstairs to his room and undressed as we kissed. He pulled down his trousers and undergarments and I began to give him a blowjob. After a few strokes, I felt his hand on the back of my head, encouraging me to perform the act in a more rigorous manner.
What happened next should be a warning to men to never push a person’s head up and down while they are performing an oral act on you. After a few minutes, the Marketer was really going for it, pushing with such force that I was deep-throating his penis. Then, with one particularly mighty push, his cock went the wrong side of my tongue and my frenulum* ripped!
I began gagging as blood began to pool at the bottom of my mouth, which triggered Marketer to release the back of my head. He is a very lucky that my knee jerk reaction wasn’t to bite down on his penis. Like the little train that could, I downed my glass of wine and then went on to finish the (blow) job.
The extent of the injury wasn’t realised till the following day. When I woke up, the blood in my mouth had congealed, glueing my tongue to the bottom of my mouth. To heal the wound, I had to gargle with salt water and only eat soft food for two weeks. To this day, I am still able to stick my tongue out about 2cm further than before the incident.
* Frenulum – the membrane extending from the floor of the mouth to the midline of the underside of the tongue.