Category Archives: ★★★☆☆

November 05

The Ivy, spreading its tendrils to Marylebone.

I’ve got a table for the new Ivy Café in Marylebone tomorrow, says Mr A, I know it’s short notice, but I thought you might like to try it. Short notice? Never a problem. As he said it, the vague memory of an Ivy opening in Marylebone drifted into my conscious mind. It had slipped […]

October 27

The Ritz. If you’re blue.

It’s not for me, I think, all that gilt, all those mirrors and middle-aged women, listening to the plinkety-plink of the piano,  whilst stuffing their faces with champagne, tea, sandwiches and cake.  I’m far too cool for this, I tell myself. I entirely ignore the fact that I am a middle-aged woman with a fondness for champagne, sandwiches, tea and cake.

September 10

Sushi Samba. Splash the cash.

My FOMO has reached new proportions. I know that this is a mix of Japanese, Brazilian and Peruvian, pure con-fusion food but I’m not sure what that really means.  Though I do know my nigiri from my sashimi, I’m not so hot on the churrascos and the anticuchos, so I have decided to plan in advance,  otherwise known as looking up […]

August 14

Rabbit and The Shed.

We have also the wines from success, said our waiter, in a thick accent of indeterminate origin, his ponytail pulled back so tightly that he had given himself a Croydon facelift. We decided to give the wines of success a miss when we worked out that they were wines from Sussex, not that I’ve got anything against […]

June 25

Duck and Rice. Ever been to a Chinese pub?

I’ve never seen anything like it says C, almost smiling, practically a whole page of beers. This from the man whose favourite card is one bearing the legend “Beer: proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy”. I order the food whilst he loses himself in a world of hops.

June 10

Ham Yard, Soho.

I have lived in London for more years than I care to remember, but I have never before been to Ham Yard, slap, tickle and bang in the middle of Soho. Ham Yard was placed firmly on the Soho tourist map by the opening of the Ham Yard Hotel, part of the Firmdale Group. I […]

April 02

The Heron, W2. It’ll give you wings.

I had tried, half-heartedly to get in once before, but the combination of a massive queue and ear-splitting karaoke screeching from the wall-mounted televisions was enough to see me off. It was Biker Barry who got me here in the end. I owed him for cat-sitting favours. Choose anywhere, I say. The Heron, he says, I […]

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 […]

January 06

Spring. Subtlety at Somerset House.

I’m not sure I’d recommend all that emaciation and in-yer-face genitalia as a precursor to lunch and I’m pleased that we work our way through the stunningly good permanent collection, so that I can draw on some less brutal imagery before the softness of Spring.

December 14

Wiltons. SW1. History on a plate.

It’s been there since 1742, according to the doormat. Bang in the heart of hunting-shooting-fishing-land, you can stock up on all your country needs before you come here and eat something that someone else has had the decency to shoot for you. Wanting, nay needing to avoid anything remotely festive, when  Wiltons pinged up on […]