Tag Archives: Italian

June 09

Bacco. A mid-town Italian adventure.

“God, the pressure, choosing for you, you have no idea what it’s like,” says M, Head Clerk of an cracking set of barristers’ chambers we use all the time. “Honestly, I’m sure it will be absolutely fine, really”, I say, not sure about any such thing.

March 03

Sartoria. Old dog new tricks.

Unless it has been shoved into a quiet corner, it seems that the tailor’s dummy has been done for in the refurb; that tailor’s dummy which sat in the heart of the restaurant, letting you know that you were in the middle of the the hand-made garment district, as if the Savile Row address didn’t offer enough of […]

January 28

Bernardi’s. The finest tart in the area.

I’m happy that the sexing up of that sorry bit of the Edgware Road around Marble Arch is now making great strides. Traditionally sexing up and Edgware Road have only meant the one thing and the prostitute problem on the Hyde Park Estate makes it feel like Kings Cross at times, and not the new […]

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 […]

May 09

NOW CLOSED ……Rex & Mariano, Soho. My boat has come in.

“What do you mean we have to order using an iPad?”, says J, making her mind up in seconds and not in a good way. And the table is only for two hours because we are a party of fewer than five. We get a little “hmmph”  before she realises that the iPad thing brings […]

January 11

C London. Mugged in Mayfair.

I have thought about taking C to C London, dragging him out of his Oxfordshire hermitage, just so that I can say I’ve taken C to C London, but it’s an expensive trip, just for the sake of a pun. I’ve been a few times myself, so I know what I’m in for. Colleague J has […]

August 24

Signor Sassi. Dinosaur spotted in Knightsbridge.

It is Friday morning at 10 am. I text my client,  G, as we are meant to be meeting for lunch on the Monday and nothing has been booked yet. Where are we eating and are you booking something? I am worried that we are leaving it too late. I am married to the wrong woman, he says, […]

July 29

Rivea. Not riveting

They didn’t play The Girl from Ipanema, but they might as well have done. Hotel muzak is alive and well. Bulgari (or, according to my autocorrect, Vulgari – it knows) is that wildly expensive jewellery brand, owned by LVMH which now gives its name to an hotel. Expanding the branding.

July 25

Cecconi’s. A waiting game.

I was once summoned to Cecconi’s by a client, who used to run his company from here over breakfast. He had his own table. Obviously. It reminded me of a story told by C about his father, sitting in a steakhouse in Chicago. He noticed  an elderly gentleman sat alone at a large table with […]

July 20

Polpo Notting Hill. Yummy, mummy.

I haven’t been to the original Soho Polpo. Like a foodie version of too posh to push, I’m just too old to stand in line. Not to mention impatient. And even though I am generally to be found right up there on my high horse about the no booking thing, I thought that it might […]