Tag Archives: British

July 07

The Marksman. Right on target.

Post Brexit, I am taking my chances taking C to Hackney to eat. It would have been bad enough had the vote gone with Remain, but less than five days after what was for C pretty much the end of western civilisation, I am playing with fire. And of course it is raining, after what feels like an […]

June 02

Loch Bay and other stories. The Isle of Skye.

You may ask yourself, how did I get here? Well, quite easily really; a flight to Inverness and then a three-hour drive through some of the most magnificent scenery I have ever seen. Like all of the proverbial best-laid, it didn’t go quite to plan. Booking The Three Chimneys on the strength of its reputation […]

May 20

Something for the weekend? The joy of Bristol’s bistros.

In an effort to spread my dining net further afield than my two usual stamping grounds, central London and South Oxfordshire,  I decided to go west, specifically to Bristol and even more specifically, the Clifton part of Bristol. I think that Bristol may now be the second food city of the UK and it is […]

April 27

Pitt Cue. Sheer piggery.

Last time I went to Pitt Cue I flounced off in a huff. Too much queueing, too little communication, too much chaos. There is only so much I’m prepared to tolerate for a plateful of pulled pork, even if it’s from a furry, fatty Mangalitza pig, their porky USP. My queue strop happened when they had that […]

April 13

45 Jermyn Street. The Fountain Room gets a facelift.

I once bunked off a school outing to that London. We were meant to be seeing the Treasures of Tutankhamun at the British Museum. My partner-in-crime Jacques, so much more sophisticated, not to mention three years older,  took one look at the snaking queue and suggested hot chocolate and an ice-cream sundae at Fortnums. I’d never […]

January 20

The Quality Chop House. It’s on my list.

You can’t really write about The Quality Chop House without talking about its history. I was just going to mention that it had been a restaurant since 1869 and leave it at that. Thing is though, as a property lawyer by profession and an historian by education I can’t quite leave it there. So, combining […]

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.

October 17

Shaun Dickens at the Boathouse. Not floating my boat.

I’ve booked and cancelled Shaun Dickens at the Boathouse in Henley on more than one occasion, simultaneously attracted by his stated pedigree and put off by pictures of somewhat overwrought food. It’s quite fussy plating, the like of which will generally have me running for the hills, unless I know that they know what they are doing.  But […]

September 21

The Clove Club. Who said romance was dead?

“Happy loving couples make it look so easy.” Joe Jackson, 1989. I’d last been to The Clove Club on Valentine’s Day, that passion-killer which ranks up there with New Year’s Eve as top of my nights to stay at home under all circumstances. I was so overjoyed to be able to find that a table […]

August 30

Petersham Nurseries Café. A garden at the centre.

Petersham Nurseries. Remember that? Of course you do. You’ll probably be recalling its heyday, under Skye Gyngell, when it had a Michelin star and everyone went on about how expensive it was. I never really fancied it then, I’m not sure why. Perhaps it was the airy-fairiness of it, or the worry that I was going […]