Tag Archives: oldie-friendly

January 01

Les 110 de Taillevent. Bank on it.

An accomplished brasserie with sophisticated food, mainly classics, executed to a high standard for the price point.

November 26

Sexy Fish. Wear your best trout pout.

In the end, I had to put my splayed fingers on the glass, covering the faces of the paparazzi, their noses pressed to the window. Hoping to catch a glimpse of Rita Ora, I can’t imagine that they were particularly interested in Piers Morgan, sitting a couple of tables away. If you’ve ever been to Las Vegas, you will […]

November 11

NOW CLOSED : Piquet, W1: Piquing my interest in Mr Pickett.

I might as well just give in to my inner OAP. I’m happy to fantasize about a post-work trek across town to Hackney or Peckham Rye but unless the tube is going to deposit me at the mouth of my chosen restaurant,  I’m not going to be schlepping across the darkling plains of E5 or SE15 to eat in […]

November 05

The Ivy, spreading its tendrils to Marylebone.

I’ve got a table for the new Ivy Café in Marylebone tomorrow, says Mr A, I know it’s short notice, but I thought you might like to try it. Short notice? Never a problem. As he said it, the vague memory of an Ivy opening in Marylebone drifted into my conscious mind. It had slipped […]

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 […]

September 20

Oldroyd. Local Hero.

Think about your dream neighbourhood restaurant. It would have a chef-owner who spends real time in the kitchen. It would be around the corner, so that you could stagger home, if and when necessary. They would know your name, so that when you called they would always manage to squeeze you in. The food would be […]

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 […]

August 25

André Garrett at Cliveden House.

Shall we go to Cliveden, I say to C, who is sitting on the chair in the kitchen, playing with his phone.  I am sitting at the kitchen table, preparing a schedule of mortgage requirements for a new client. Unsurprisingly, the tedium is leading me to thoughts of escape. There are only so many times […]