106-110 Wardour Street
Date of Last Visit: Wednesday, December 16, 2009. (Yes, I've been sitting on a lot of posts!)
The Victim: Me
The Damage: £20
The Background: I used to think that 20 vacation days was pretty generous. Because you know, in America, you're lucky to get 10. If you're really really lucky, you get 15. (That being said, the US has more public holidays than the U.K. 10 in comparison to the U.K.'s eight. And we don't have any droughts…you know, like the drought between now and April, and the other drought between AUGUST AND FREAKIN' DECEMBER. WTF?)
I don't know about you, but I need some days just to get shit done. Weekends just don't cut it. By the time Saturday comes around, I'm exhausted. And I have to go to the dry cleaners. And the grocery store. And then it's 4 p.m. and the day is over. And then Sunday becomes this black hole of back-to-back Come Dine with Mes.
So it was that I found myself in HELL. Oxford Street on a Wednesday, less than ten days before Christmas. My whole idea about picking up some cute Christmas stuff at Liberty? Ruined. Liberty was decimated. Decimated! It was insane. I'd left things too late.
So I took myself out to lunch. At Busaba Eathai. And it was okay. What I liked most about it was the way it smelled. It was like a spa.
So then I had the Pad Kwetio. It was okay. Was it the best pad kwetio I've ever had? That's hard to answer because I've never had pad kwetio before. But was I eating it thinking, "So is this is the best thing ever"?? No. (For the record, that's the feeling I have whenever I eat the char kway teow at Sedap.)
The Verdict: Go for a massage first. And then go to Busaba Eathai. And then you tell me.