Dear Daddy,

It was my dad's birthday this weekend. Sadly, with a packed work schedule and other commitments tying me to London I couldn't make it home. But we've got to the stage now where it doesn't matter if we can't all be together for birthdays or anniversaries or holidays, we always make time to be altogether at a later date. It's just as special.

Anyone who knows me well knows how incredibly close I am to my daddy. My favourite phrases as a child were "DADIEEEEEEE" or "look at me" and very little has changed in the twenty years that have followed.

Through everything I have done and all the choices that I've made, my dad has always been at my side, encouraging me and believing in me, and I know I would be simply lost without him. Through learning to ride a bike, going to high school, the first time I brought a boy home to the day I moved out, my dad has always been there with a smile as warm and knowing as you could ever picture. We still talk almost every day, whether its about the documentary he's making about his chickens, or the outfit I'm wearing on tomorrow night's date, he is animated and entertaining in every word.

My whole family is, as many people are aware, the closest and most unusual bunch of people you could imagine. And our dad is the glue to that. So because I couldn't celebrate his birthday with him, I thought I would share it with you.

So Happy Birthday Daddy, thank you for showering every day of my life with love. I will always be your little woman

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Birthday Celebrations at The Mango Tree

Melissa's birthday marks the end of birthday season, and as it came around mid-March, I was a tiny bit relieved. After 23 birthday events, eight cakes, countless bottles of champagne and two hospitalisations, I was looking forward to a time out from celebrating.

Melissa was spending her actual birthday with the new man travelling Asia, so the week before hand, we were headed over to Mango Tree. But before we left it was time to give Melissa her gift. Pippa and I had figured this out months ago, and had been beavering away the last few days to get it finished in time for Melissa's fake birthday. We had bought her 21 presents, one for every year of her life. From Mac, to Starbucks coffee, to a plastic Monsters Inc spoon and bowl, her birthday hamper was filled with everything that reminded us of Melissa. We giggled our way through the unwrapping and a rather emotional Melissa was thrilled with each and every one.

After presents, it was time to get ready, and a quick snap accompanied by some incredible lemon meringue cupcakes, before zipping in a car across to Mango Tree.

We met Jack, Gemma and Harriett in the bar of the 5 star Thai restaurant situation in London's Belgravia, where we welcomed by the friendly and incredibly knowledgeable staff. Both the bar and restaurant ooze Asian sophistication and we were quickly transported into a world far away from London's Victoria. We gladly took cocktail menus and were sufficiently confused and blown away by the extensive list of original and classic mixes. Spying a blue lagoon, I was quickly contented, and we were all happy customers when an array of rainbow liquors arrived for us. Toasting the fabulous 21 years of Melissa, we were quickly and efficiently sat at our table not a minute passed nine, shortly followed by the vast menu. 

We snacked on the most delicious prawn crackers while mulling over our menus. Thai food has never been my favourite, but even I was dazzled by the delicious array of dishes on the menu.

 I eventually settled on a talay pad cha. A classic. 

Ok, so I had never heard of it before either. But wok fried scallops and squid with peppercorns and kachai root? I was sold. 

Our food arrived in perfect timing to soak up the cocktails and wine and we quickly tucked in. My dish was one of the greatest things I ever eaten. And helping myself to Jack's Jasmine rice it was the perfect amount of flavours and textures, if a little too spicy for my usual taste. But this only heightened the taste and we all agreed our food was flawless. We passed on dessert, and were almost the last people in the restaurant by the time we said our goodbyes.

When my group of friends get together it's almost impossible to tear ourselves away. Regardless of how long we have been apart, from a day to a few weeks, we always have so much to talk about and conversation and wine will always flow in equal measures.

But with cupcakes awaiting us at the apartment the girls and I merrily piled into a cab and headed home.

For information and Reservations at The Mango Tree: http://www.mangotree.org.uk

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Dining in the Dark

When Pippa first requested we make reservations at Dans Le Noir for her birthday, it was met with some cynical hesitance on my part. Dans Le Noir, which literally translates as "in black" is a michelin star restaurant in Clerkenwell where you dine totally in the dark. Surely the girls and I could close the curtains, turn the lights off and achieve the exact same effect at home? But never one to turn down an excuse to celebrate, dine out or catch up with the girls I was happy, if a little sceptical, to go along.

Pippa ordered us to choose our menus before hand, although you're not allowed to know what you're actually choosing until after your meal. The girls and I chose an array of the options, with Becky, Fran and I opting for the red menu, Melissa and Pippa chose blue, and Harriett daringly went for the white.

We arrived early to be greeted by the bar staff, who incredibly, are all blind. The continuation of the lack of visibility extends through all the staff in this restaurant, and I was instantly surprised, impressed and eager for dinner. We swiftly worked our way through a bottle of wine before locking our belongings away in lockers in the reception. This had to include anything that would cast even the remotest flicker of light. We begrudgingly put phones, watches and cameras away and shuffled into the corridor. 

Gal, our blind waiter came out to greet us, and after several attempts managed to get all six of us in a single file line. "Hand on the shoulder of the person in front" he ordered. We did as instructed and began our very serious conga through a door, and then two sets of curtains. 

The restaurant is pitch black. More so than any room I've entered before, and suddenly I was thrilled to have one of the girls either side of me. The restaurant was busy, this I could only deduce from the amount of noise. But the room felt small. We later discovered there were only six tables in the whole place. In turn, we were sat by Gal at our chairs, giggling and shuffling awkwardly until we were all in place. With unbelievable ease and precision, Gal handed us our drinks to pour ourselves. A lot more challenging than it sounds when you can literally see nothing. The girls managed well, while still in my alcohol ban, successfully managed to pour water all over my liner plate and the table. 

Across the room, a noisy table broke out into an unexpected chant and laughing with blind confidence, the girls and I quickly joined in. That was until our food arrived. The whole point of eating in the dark is that it aims to enhance all the other senses, especially taste. When our plates arrived, we were informed that there was three separate mini-meals, each complete with its own condiments. We all tucked in, struggling to locate our food in the darkness with a knife and fork. Refusing to allow this to be a problem, Bex dived straight in with her fingers. No one could tell after all. The food tasted incredible, and we devoured each mouthful while us meat eaters animatedly tried to figure out exactly what it was we were eating. Fran and I were determined that beef and lamb were amongst the menu, while Bex argued she had definitely tasted duck. 

It didn't take us long to finish, and our plates were cleared away to make room for dessert. We all had the same dessert, which definitely consisted of a lemon mousse-type dessert with a ginger biscuit. Once dinner was finished we all piled out of the restaurant, stumbling with distorted unease as we re-adjusted to the light. We had been warned of how distorting it is leaving the restaurant, and I had never felt more soberly drunk as I did leaving that restaurant. We were collecting our belongings when the bartender approached us "Would you like to see what was on your plates?". Was that a trick question? We threw open our menu's to see what we had been consuming. The seafood girls were correct in their guesses of salmon, while us meat eaters had correctly guessed beef, Becky had been right on the duck, and our final platter was Guinea fowl. Harriett's surprise was a definite surprise of swordfish and kangaroo. A first for all of us. 

I left feeling full, surprised and totally impressed. While the food is fantastic, it's definitely enhanced by eating in the dark, and for a totally new experience, I'd recommend it every time.

All information on Dans Le Noir can be found here: http://london.danslenoir.com

All images courtesy of Dans Le Noir

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Prêt-à-portea at the Berkeley

Although I was super sad to be saying goodbye to my birthday celebrations, I was excited to hand over the birthday baton to Jack. And luckily before my illness left me bed bound, we managed to squeeze in an extra special treat to officially handover birthday duties.

We have always adored afternoon tea at Laduree, the french favourite I have spoken about countless times, but as a birthday treat were determined to find something new. Enter The Berkeley. The five star hotel in London's Knightsbridge is a stones throw away from Harrods, and a favourite of rockstars and royals alike for its impeccable service and attention to detail. I'd heard great things about their fashionista's afternoon tea and was thrilled to discover they had got a last minute slot. I'd definitely advise booking early to avoid disappointment though as tables can fill up months in advance.

So on a typically wintery Monday afternoon, Jack and I headed over to The Berkeley. We were met by the professional and warm doormen, who directed us to the Caramel room, where afternoon tea is served. The room is beautifully decorated with the expected warm chocolate and caramel hues and big, glass windows looking out onto the street. A hostess took our coats and we sat down to our multicoloured china, vibrant menu's and an electric pink shoe with our reservation name on it. Our friendly waiter explained the menu to us and left us to browse the eclectic range of fruit, herbal and traditional infusions.

The menu begins the excitement before you've even tasted a hint of confectionary. The sweets change every six months and reflect the current trends in fashion. As we were attending in winter, our menu highlighted some of the key designer pieces from AW13, and the way they would be interpreted in the biscuits. Fashion and confectionary? I was sold.

We ordered our teas, Jasmine for Jack and an exotic Watermelon infusion for me, politely declining the offer of champagne considering our heads were still a little hazy from the week before, and chatted excitedly about his impending birthday celebrations.

In perfect timing our afternoon tea arrived. Our beverages first, promptly followed by a delicious selection of home made sandwiches served on separate plates. Seconds later our beaming waiter arrived with a tea stand rivalling a fashionista's closet. The bottom tier was a selection of savouries from watercress veloute to swordfish canapés, and the top two tiers were confectionary creations taken from iconic designers from Vivienne Westwood to Oscar de la Renta. We almost didn't want to touch them, but of course we did. 

After finishing off our sandwiches, Jack and I tucked in to our sweets. The decision making process was tough, they all looked too good to eat. "Don't worry" our waiter smiled when he came to invite us to try another variety of tea "you can have as many more as you can eat". This both delighted and unnerved me. Challenge accepted.

From the Westwood macaroon, to the Burberry trench coat, each fancy seemed more delicious than the last. But the best had to be the Gaultier mousse. They must have known passionfruit was my favourite. 

Unable to squeeze another mouthful in, the waiter kindly wrapped up two of our favourite fancies in the most extravagant miniature handbags for us to take away with us. It was a delicious afternoon for the eyes, tastebuds and the inner fashionista. 

The service is as impeccable as the afternoon tea that is served, well worth it for a special treat to fulfil the inner fashionista dream. 

For more information and reservations: http://www.the-berkeley.co.uk/fashion-afternoon-tea/

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The Birthday Lowdown

It’s been a whirlwind of a week. I’m finally sitting down for what feels like the first time in a month. And even now I’m travelling.

The week of turning twenty has possibly been my favourite week in my twenty years. I won’t fill you in with every little detail, I’m not sure that would be a good idea for anyone. But I will tell you some of my favourite things.

My big circle of London friends all descended on Chelsea for a night of madness on Monday, complete with chocolate cake, sparklers, semi naked men and several bottles of champagne. Cue lots of 

shrieking, giggling and dancing on tables.

The girls and I then headed to Gilgamesh on Wednesday. It’s a sushi and pan Asian restaurant in the heart of the stables market. We’d seen and heard great things about the restaurant and from the outside, it looked like we were entering a hidden world. We ordered drinks, a diet coke for Melissa who was already feeling the strain from the copious amounts we had drunk a few nights before. I ordered a cucumber and kiwi cocktail from the rather short but totally unique menu, and I have to say it was one of the greatest drinks I have ever had. Sadly that was possibly the highlight. While the food was good once it arrived correctly, we were left disappointed by the poor service and lack of attention to detail. You need to order a vast amount to leave feeling full too.

Thursday was birthday eve and in between running errands and salon appointments I was giddy with excitement. My bestest friends came over and we headed out to Bodos. I’ve blogged about Bodos before when Pippa, Melissa, Jack and I headed for a final hurrah at the end of last year. The south Kensington venue is a popular haunt of everyone from Jamie Laing to Prince Harry and it quickly fills up from Thursday’s- Sundays with partygoers from all over.

And finally at midnight, complete with a rather rowdy rendition of “Happy Birthday” I brought in turning twenty with drinking and dancing late into the night.

Feeling slightly worse for wear, I devoured the birthday girl breakfast scones Melissa had left for me, and headed to the station. I find these days that I’m always travelling on my birthday. I actually rather like it. And some calm TLC from my family was exactly what I required after the weeks madness. I was met by my baby sister (she’s eighteen this year, I’m going to have to let go of the ‘baby’ prefix soon) and we headed home.

Tumbling into the house I was met by the greatest looking tea party and the promise of the impeding arrival of Em Holth from Madrid, and my aunt and uncle who would also be joining us.

We tucked into plates of cheese and pineapple sticks, mini steaks, pork pies, cocktail sausages, marshmallows and traffic light biscuits. I’ll one-day post about these. An invention that transformed my childhood. Washed down with healthy glasses of champagne and wine, we caught up way into the night while I opened the last of my beautiful gifts.

And finally Saturday it was begrudgingly time to say goodbye to my birthday. I was officially twenty and my celebrations had come to a wonderful close, along with another decade of incredible memories.

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February Happiness

I was so pleased to say goodbye to January. It seemed even longer than usual this year, and unhealthily full of bad weather and bad moods. A reminder that Christmas couldn't be further away and you've still got months of bitter winds and standstill traffic before the first glimmers of summer arrive. Plus I love February. Not only because you begin to see the first glimmers of Spring, nor because there's only 28 days to love, but it's also my birth month. Yes, I'm going to try and drag my birthday out for the entire month.

And while curiously researching famous people that share my birthdate (Charles Dickens, Ashton Kutcher and Chris Rock to answer your question) I stumbled across some research about February birthdays based on scientific observation. Sceptically, I read on.

Firstly, February birthdays are over sensitive and easily hurt by others. I paused for a minute, scoffing ever so slightly. I mean, I cry at everything. An image of a baby animal, emotive books, I even cry at stop smoking ads. But over sensitive? Me? I decided this didn't really apply.

2. By nature, you are loyal to those you love. This has some truth. I am fiercely loyal to my closest friends, and I'd defend my family to the death. But then, wouldn't everyone?

3. Should an occasion arise, you will surprise everyone with your hidden talents. This had me laughing.  And then thinking if I had any hidden talents. Most people are surprised to know I speak a second language. Not at all well, but my sisters and I are all Spanish speakers. I'm also incredibly flexible. Especially after a glass or two. On the subject I can also drink a bottle of wine in one go. But I think that's more of a problem than a hidden talent.

4. Finally Februarians (Ok so that isn't actually a word) love their freedom and tend to get rebellious when denied that freedom. I don't know if this is a February girl thing or a Holtham girl thing but my freedom is most definitely my greatest and most favoured asset. While I will always love and treasure my family and my home, moving out and starting my own life in the city and the freedom that came with it is the greatest achievement I've made.

Oh and another fabulously useless fact I discovered this month, September 16th is the most common birthdate in the world. Come to think of it I know quiet a few birthdays then…

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Dinner Party Fever

I'm such a birthday person. Ever since I was little, going to a birthday party was my favourite thing to do, and growing up, this really hasn't changed. And then it got even better when I moved to London because my three best London friends and I discovered that all of our birthdays are within five weeks of  each other. So we dubbed it birthday season and look forward to it every year.

It's mine first. And with a week to go, I decided it was time the celebrations began. And having left my Cheshire friends to return to the city a month ago, a dinner party at my family home seemed the perfect excuse to celebrate and catch up on each others news. I'm not much of a cook, so luckily I had mumma on hand to provide advice and culinary expertise. I was also relieved when Laura arrived early afternoon to help prepare and calm my nerves. She had travelled up from Bristol to make it, so I couldn't have been more excited and thankful to see her.

We prepared all the food as much as possible, laid the table in timeless cream and gold, not forgetting the champagne flutes and dashed upstairs to get ready.

With an hour to spare, Tom arrived with endless candles, beautiful flowers and beads to finish off the table, we chatted about our day and our excitement for the evening ahead while dressing our centre pieces.

 So proud of his creations

Everyone filtered in about 8pm and we toasted myself, the other Tom (who celebrates his birthday the day before mine) and Sophie's new job before migrating to the dining room for dinner. I went and put the finishing touches to the goats cheese and caramelised onion tartlets, topped everyone up with a glass of wine and we all tucked in. It's always so nice to catch up on all the news from home. Combine it with great food and wine and I'm in my element. 

 We then moved on to main course, with a hearty home made lasagne on offer, perfectly accompanied with a top up of wine. Last year Tom and I hosted a large soiree at his home to jointly celebrate our birthdays, which quickly escalated with the assistance of cigars, dirty pints and the questionable use of some insect spray. And while that was a total blast, I decided that for turning twenty, something more civilised was required.

Feeling incredibly full, we paused pre-dessert for some light entertainment and a group photo. So many things have changed for me this year, and I am so thankful to every single one of these for being there for me.

Having laughed off enough room to squeeze in dessert, we headed back to the dining room. Mumma had made two of my favourites; banoffe pie and meringues, complete with strawberries and cream. But no eating was to be done until "Happy Birthday" had been sung and sparklers had been lit. (Everyone knows my hatred to birthday candles). We then tucked in, accompanied with dessert wine and animatedly began planning a weekend away at Easter. After the fun of Plas Uchaf (http://lavidalondonista.blogspot.co.uk), a weekend in Abersoch is most definitely going to be welcome.

We spent the rest of the evening making our way through cheese, port and home brewed spirits, drinking our way into the early hours. But not before presents. Both Tom and Sophie had kindly given me wonderful bottles of Lanson and Verve, while I excitedly unwrapped a cigar (from memories of 3am rickshaw rides), a copy of Rush (formula 1 is our favourite) and a bottle of pear grey goose from the other Tom.

We awoke the next morning with fragile heads (some more so than others) to a dreamy hangover breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast before saying our goodbyes. 

First attempt at being a mature twenty-something? Check. 

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