Tag Archives: French

Hélène Darroze at The Connaught. Luxury.

I hate this time of year. People in the real world, i.e. one outside law, are all winding down nicely for booze-sodden lunches, without having to cancel at the last minute or keep their mobile devices somewhere that they can actually feel them. Yanked back to the office after only a starter at Café Murano […]

July 20

Hibiscus. Thank God I liked it.

I confess. I was a bit put off by the rather unattractive spat between Claude Bosi and a hapless would-be blogger and there were so many other places I wanted to try as well. So I’d left it. But it was a Friday, I’d dragged C into London and I felt like a bit of faine […]

Balthazar. A feast.

Balthazar. According to Wikipedia, it’s either a name commonly attributed to one of the Biblical Magi, an alternative form of the name of the Babylonian King Belshazzar (that story doesn’t have a happy ending) or a 12-litre champagne or wine bottle. Whilst the story of King Balthazar centres around a feast, I suspect it’s the […]

Orrery. A mechanical device.

Shall we go to The Orrery? Lovely, I hear myself saying. Do we have to?  says my heart. I’ve been here at least five times, but I’ve never booked it myself and given that it’s an obvious choice for a bit of client-related faine daining I wanted to think about why that is.

Bored at Bar Boulud.

I’ve heard C bang on for years about Boulud in New York and how brilliant it is but I’m always a bit wary of the Ramsay-esque spread of sleb-chefs and so I hadn’t rushed to try it. You get there through a side entrance for the Mandarin Hotel, which is a good thing as it […]

For grown-ups. Hélène Darroze, at The Connaught

Really, I didn’t need nine courses.  It was sheer piggery.  I could have had six courses and really, I should have done, but you know how it is and to use the famous quote, I can resist everything except temptation.

28-50 Marylebone. You know you want to.

Heritage. It’s the new organic isn’t it? Really, I don’t think it’s possible to order a non-heritage tomato in Central London anymore. This isn’t just any tomato, it’s an heritage tomato. Purleese. What did we do before? I’m bored with it now.

May 30

Coq D’Argent. Worth skiving off for.

It was the parting of the white shirts, getting to our outdoor table.  Like most of the City, this is a bit of a male bastion and the shirts belonged to men, most of them were considerably younger than me, but then, nowadays, most people are. It was a Monday, but the crowds and the […]

Sold down the River – The River Restaurant at the Savoy

Whilst I am fully aware that my letter of complaint makes me look like I have nothing better to worry about than what types of cheese are on a plate and whether that is explained to me, the truth is, that when you pay for a premium dining experience, you expect a premium dining experience.  […]

November 25


I must have passed by this restaurant a thousand times. I was vaguely aware that Marcus Wareing once cooked here and that it also once was the proud owner of a Michelin star, but that was a very long time ago. First impressions weren’t great – it looked tired and old-fashioned. Even though I was […]