No words. March 22

Wormwood. Your guess is as good as mine.

I have no idea why they named it Wormwood. After the herb? Or perhaps the star mentioned in the Book of Revelations, which, according to Wikipedia, falls to Earth and poisons a third part of the earth’s waters. #Awkward. Described on the website as “wholesome, creative colourful dishes inspired by tapas/mezze culture executed with French […]

image March 21

Hunan. You won’t go hungry.

Why is your wearable fitness device saying LOSE asks my back doctor. This is the digital device I wear on my wrist which, helpfully, tells me how much I’ve fallen short of my daily goal of ten thousand steps. I am confused by his comment as my wearable has never before issued a command. I […]

Happy Christmas, mace lovers March 05

The Gay Hussar.

“If you go for the food, you’re missing the point. Go because you want to see a slice of restaurant history” “We had that Hugh Grant in here once, upstairs, private party. They had 19 bottles of this wine. Not a lot, between the 17 of them but I had to taste them all”. “Oh, […]

image February 22

St John. It’s the Daddy.

“There’s a northern eschewing of fancy-schmancy, which speaks to me” We’d escaped to the Beckford Arms at the weekend,  a gastropub with rooms, deep in the heart of the West Country. Run by boys who look like they should be in a Boden catalogue, it’s well worth a visit, although we don’t stay in the body […]

image February 11

Kitty Fisher’s. A modern pro.

Service beyond the call of duty. Tick-o-rama. “Can I please have a gin and Slimline?” “Oh, we don’t have Slimline,” says the man who must be the boss,  such is his proprietorial air. I find out later that he is Oliver Milburn, joint owner.  The kichen is manned by Tomos Parry, winner of Young British Foodie chef of the year and formerly of Climpson’s Arch […]

image February 07

Pied à Terre. Fitzrovia fine dining for fans of finesse.

  Sometimes something has been there for so long that you don’t even think about it We’d booked to go to Atelier de Joel Robuchon as a birthday treat for J, son of C. I ask whether J, whose taste in food tends towards the adventurous might not prefer something a little more down with the kids […]

IMG_1948-0 February 03

Smoking Goat. Thai BBQ. No goat.

I don’t really feel like being vomited on, says my dining companion, as we spot someone who has had way too many drinks for a Tuesday lunchtime, nay for any lunchtime, arguing with the double doors, dangerously close to where we are sitting. He lurches in. The waiter tries to get rid of him. He […]

IMG_1916-0 January 29

Maze Sushi. Miso-ry in Mayfair.

Let’s go to Roka, says J. It works for the diet and it’s just round the corner. Roka (pronounced Rock-a) has become our local client lunch eatery of choice, in that culinary hotch-potch that is NoMa. What is NoMa, you may ask, unaware that is my desperate one-woman attempt to turn the outer reaches of […]

IMG_1476 January 22

Fera. The L is silent.

I am in love with Claridges. I think you get to an age where you just can’t resist. It’s all that Art Deco glamour,  the attentive staff and the flattering lighting, not to mention that hit of pure luxe as  you walk through the iconic revolving door, flanked by liveried doormen. How to feel special, made flesh.

IMG_1775 January 11

C London. Mugged in Mayfair.

I should really take C to C London,  in Mayfair, just so that I can say it, but it isn’t to be. J has suggested  a trip to C for V, as her birthday treat. V, who likes C, is evidently a regular, such is the fawning and schmoozing she receives from the maître d’. I’m not […]

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