I first ‘met’ Sunita, writer of Lucky Things blog via Instagram last year. Details of exactly when are a little hazy in my mind, a bit like a boozy first date. Shortly after meeting (I use this term in the ‘online’ sense) Sunita invited me along to an event she was hosting in London. It was apparently going to be a small, informal and friendly, with a fabulous Weleda arm massage thrown in for good measure. I didn’t know anyone else who was going, and having been to big blog and smaller meet ups before, I was a worried about feeling a bit lost. The big events I’ve been too, I’ve found to be rather impersonal, as those who already know each other use it as a chance to catch up (quite rightly) but the problem being that they tend to stick in their set groups (what’s a group of bloggers called? A Click perhaps, with all that phone and keyboard tapping?) And a few other more low-key, supposedly super friendly and pressure free meet ups that I’ve been to, I’ve found to be exactly what they were claiming not to be. So would going to Sunitas’ event leave me feeling on the outside?
I love pizza, no wait, scrub that. I bloody love pizza. So much so I had to put it in bold. I’m a bit of a pizza snob too. I love the different high street chains but not all of them can plate up a top notch, fresh pizza, despite it being made on site. I’m often left feeling a little disappointed with what I’m served up at times so I was more than pleased when I was invited along to John Lewis in Kingston recently, to their newly opened restaurant Rossopomodoro, I was keen to see how they compared. Rossopomodoro, which literally means ‘red tomato’ in Italian, is a small chain that was born in Naples, the home of pizza don’t you know and they’re all about keeping it authentic, with pizza made right in front of you in their wood fired oven. This particular restaurant got me feeling rather festive, with it’s red neon sign and twinkly Christmas lights, you couldn’t help but feel ‘Christmassy’ (which is an actual thing apparently) and being a full time mum, I don’t get out much. I’ll often turn things down, taking the ‘go to bed early’ option over the ‘late to bed fuzzy headed’ one, so as my good friend Elfa said, we could class this as our, ‘sort of works Christmas do’, time to tuck into the fizz