Tag Archives: bread

June 13

Portland and yes it is (mostly) Great.

#Firstworldproblems no 1:  being irritated by the OpenTable booking message telling me I can only have the table for a two hour slot. #Firstworldproblems no.2 : being called by the restaurant two days before the booking, to remind me about the two-hour slot, in case I hadn’t seen it on the screen during booking, not […]

June 03

La Trompette. Top chow in Chiswick

Why are we sitting in this traffic says C, not understanding why we can’t eat somewhere local. It’ll only be about half an hour in the car, I say. Trust me. And anyway, I say, I just need to get out of central London and I want to go somewhere grown up. As we are sitting […]

February 22

St John. It’s the daddy.

We’d escaped to the Beckford Arms at the weekend,  a gastropub with rooms, deep in the heart of the West Country. Despite being run by boys who look like they should be in a Boden catalogue, it’s well worth a visit.

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.

January 06

Eleven Madison Park. Fine dining, alive and well.

Have I eaten in a morgue? Google the death of fine dining and you’ll see a plethora of articles telling us it’s all over. The most recent funeral oration is that given by Jay Rayner, in the Guardian, where he refers  to a survey which states that 70% of diners have turned against fine dining, linking to a headline in The […]

November 25

Colbeh and Kateh. Go East, in West London.

Persian cookery. I’ve always been a little bit captivated by it, since I was first introduced to it at boarding school, where there were a number of Persian pupils, refugees from the last days of the Shah. It must have been a bit of a shock for those evacuees, the journey from Teheran to Wallingford, what […]

November 20

Benares. Blinging it up in Berkeley Square.

We’re going to the Punchbowl, I tell J, it’s that pub in Mayfair, you know, the one that used to be owned by Guy Ritchie, when he was Madonna’s husband. For all I know, it  might still be a Ritchie venture but even if it is, we can be eternally grateful that we won’t be […]

October 23

The Palomar. Party time.

I didn’t get to hear the drum thing. It’s the owner’s special party trick; a little percussion medley, using the pots and pans in the galley kitchen, whilst customers perched on their barstools drink shots. Obviously the very thought of having that sort of display going on in front of me brings me out in […]

October 01

Barrafina, WC2. Smoking.

Regular readers will know that I don’t queue. I hate the whole no reservations thing, there for the convenience of the restaurant rather than the restaurant- goer. Not usually aimed at my demographic, I find that life goes on fairly well without having to stand around in a bar area for the chance of a […]

August 17

Fischer’s. Mitteleuropa in Marylebone.

I am in a quandary over the Austrian theme. Austria, for all its culture is not a place where I feel entirely at home, birthplace of Hitler, rise of modern anti-Semitism and all that and it put me in mind of a book I’ve heard of but not read. It’s called  “Is it good for the Jews”? In searching for […]