Ottolenghi

I have a copy of Yotam Ottolenghi's cookbook and I really love it and I have wanted to go to his restaurant for ages. The original Ottolenghi is in Islington, so today we headed up there on the Overground. Of course, it was packed and I didn't think it was very wise to queue with a baby (although he was asleep) and a child. But once Orla saw the cakes on offer, she was adamant that we stay. Eventually we were seated in the middle of a long table, cheek by jowl with other diners. Orla behaved impeccably throughout. Afterwards we took the Overground to Hackney Wick to check out Victoria Park. The park itself was lovely, it really reminded me of the Meadows. It had a fabulous play area in the middle of it with loads of things to do. Orla had an absolute ball. We ended up taking the bus back towards Islington, which took us through Hackney and Dalston. On the way back on the overground, Conor woke up and started screaming his head off. The whole carriage was looking at me, clearly wondering why I couldn't shut him up! He was fine once we got off though and luckily didn't cry during our short trip on the DLR.

Things went a bit pear-shaped once we got back. To get into the flat, you first have to open a security gate into a courtyard. The code for the gate changes weekly, and normally a sheet of paper with the new code on it is left in our apartment on a Sunday. We didn't get one yesterday, so I thought the code hasn't changed. But of course when I tried to open the gate, it wouldn't accept the code. I phoned Ed to see if he knew the new code, and during the less than 1 minute I was on the phone to him, Orla managed to get her finger stuck in the gate. She was quite calm when she told me, and so was I because I thought I'd be able to get her hand out quite easily. But then I realised that her finger was actually trapped by a piece of metal and it started to hurt and she started to cry. I was at my wits' end, standing there with her stuck and Conor strapped to me, potentially about to kick off at any time. A woman and teenage boy turned up who gave off the vibe of being massively annoyed at the inconvenience we were causing them. But then luckily a lovely couple came out of the flats. The man turned out to be a fireman and he went back inside to get some washing up liquid. His wife chatted to Orla and calmed her right down. When he came back, he managed to persuade her to work her finger free. Close inspection once we got it out revealed there was no real damage, other than to my shattered nerves. Bad luck but good luck as well, that such good Samaritans were on hand so quickly.