There’s a long tradition of food-related riddles. One of the most well-known- and the inspiration behind the logo you’ve seen countless times on that Lyle’s Golden Syrup tin in your cupboard- is thousands of years old and biblical in origin. Briefly, Samson (Delilah, lovely hair, superhuman strength) killed a mountain lion with his bare hands Read More
An unexpected hour to kill on the school run. I want big flavours, I want something with spice and aromatics. Where to eat when you want lunch with heft? “I’m not paying to do a bushtucker trial”, says my friend, and that’s from someone I’ve always thought of as a trencherman. Thus are the battle Read More
The language of offal is peculiar. Gutsy, hearty, plucky, ballsy: we assign moral qualities to offal, positive ones. Eating the stuff, though? That’s much more divisive. Even inveterate meat eaters might greet the phrase ‘edible viscera’ with the same glee you’d reserve for ‘New on Channel 5- Celebrity Air Traffic Controllers with Joey Essex!’ Many Read More
Here’s today’s public service announcement: if someone suggests a visit to Hari Krishnan’s, check the small print. Don’t jump online and waste time perving on the menu from Krishna’s Inn- also Keralan- rather than Krishnan’s Kitchen, which is where I ended up. With me? Good. Perhaps it was wishful thinking: Clifton Triangle has always been Read More
Follow my blog with Bloglovin To understand the peculiar power of the momo, we must retrace our steps. Bristol, the early 1990s. The Bristol of Dummy and Maxinquaye and Blue Lines, of shared houses in Easton and Eastville, Fishponds and Downend, of Wednesday nights in the hull of The Thekla, the weekly indie club Read More
I have this fond but utterly unscientific theory that the more effort it takes to get to a restaurant, the better the food will taste when I get there. This, of course, is nonsense. High expectations are just there to be dashed, and were, especially at one of this area’s biggest starry ‘names’ the very Read More
This blog is a very simple thing.
I won’t try to sell you any hand lotion, exercise programmes, coffee syrups or Patagonian nose flutes. You won’t find tips on dating, ‘wellness’ or yoga mats.
I write because I love it (and food, as indicated by my increasing girth). Greed happens to be my Deadly Sin of choice, but at least it is never shy of providing me with subject matter.
A simple thing, then: all you get is me wittering on semi-coherently about places I’ve eaten at; hence a ‘restaurant blog’ rather than a ‘food blog’, although there are a few recipes scattered throughout.
From mezze to Michelin ‘fine dining’ and all points in between.