Tag Archives: international cuisine

July 20

N.A.C. Qu’est-ce que c’est?

I kept getting the name wrong, before I worked out that it stood for North Audley Cantine. Not canteen, nor cantina, just cantine. It’s French. I’d been here when it opened and we were the only people eating. Then it was all sharing plates and I remember it being a little confusing; they just seemed […]

May 17

34. It’s a Caring Formula.

Ask for a round table. You might otherwise have to move three times, like I did on the visit before this one. They favour the run of tables close together style of dining, so that you get to know your neighbour, whether or not you want to. A round table will take you away from […]

April 19

The Ivy. Clinging on.

I have lived in London for 33 years and I have never, until now, been to The Ivy. So long has it been a part of the restaurant scene that I thought it had been there, in its present form, for decades, but (I was surprised to find) it has only been around in its […]

August 30

Medlar. Not an open-ers in sight.

Medlar. Not meddler. Which is sometimes said of me. Unfairly, in my view. And medlar is a fruit which is rotten before it is ripe. Have a look: My favourite reference to it appears in Chaucer. An old slang name for medlar is open arse. I’m glad I know that. “This white top writeth myne […]

July 19

NOPI. Ottolenghi for grown-ups.

I was predestined to like NOPI. Partly because it’s on the site of the Sugar Club, of blessed memory and partly because I have a soft spot for all things Ottolenghi. And for all you young things out there, Sugar Club was, for me the food sensation of the mid 1990’s. One of my food […]

Gail’s Kitchen.

The thing with Twitter is that you can sometimes forget that people read what you tweet. I’d been to Gail’s Kitchen earlier in the week and had mentioned on Twitter that I had enjoyed it. What I actually said was: Gail’s Kitchen.  I liked it. I loved bits of it. A bit Ottolenghi-ish. But not. […]

Caravan King’s Cross.

We had a little taxi-drama – he couldn’t find it and we went down a number of dead ends, before working out that one has to walk across the bridge.

Zoom. I almost can’t be bothered

I’ve eaten here about a million times, because it’s round the corner from my office and because it never seems to change.

Lousy at The Lowry

I’m not really eating out as such at the moment, but I still have to eat and yesterday I had to eat at The Lowry hotel, in the heart of Manchester. It’s a Rocco Forte hotel and you expect a certain standard in the dining room. Or at least I would. And as long as […]

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.