“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.
Tag Archives: Italian
March
03
Sartoria. Old dog new tricks.
posted by Nicky Richmond
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 […]
August
30
Petersham Nurseries Café. A garden at the centre.
posted by Nicky Richmond
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 […]
January
11
C London. Mugged in Mayfair.
posted by Nicky Richmond
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.
posted by Nicky Richmond
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
25
Cecconi’s. A waiting game.
posted by Nicky Richmond
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.
posted by Nicky Richmond
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 […]
May
24
Chain reaction : Spaghetti House, Bryanston Street.
posted by Nicky Richmond
It must have been twenty years since I’d been to a Spaghetti House. The one on Duke Street was my regular hangout, in the days when I was a lowly Articled Clerk. Pre-fax, pre-email, we still had carbon copies. for those of you who are not ancient, that’s what cc actually means. As my firm […]
April
02
Ember Yard. Smoking.
posted by Nicky Richmond
I have a confession. My blog has a big fat Salt Yard gap in it. No, I have never been to Salt Yard, Dehesa, or, most shockingly, Opera Tavern. I thought that I had a Salt Yard jinx and I was fully expecting this visit to be derailed by some sort of crisis, but clearly […]
March
22
Bocca di Lupo. We wolfed it down.
posted by Nicky Richmond
Bocca di Lupo. In the wolf’s mouth. Apparently it’s used by Italians to wish you good luck. It was a wet Wednesday and I was tired. The table was booked for 7.45, which is fine, even for me with my pensioner special penchant, but when you’ve been out the night before for a deal celebration […]
The Food Judge 