Hadramowt Yemeni restaurant, City Road, Cardiff
On August 4, 2022 by The Plate Licked CleanAfter dinner at Hadramowt, I went back for lunch the next day. I find it useful to visit a restaurant twice if I’m going to write about it: that might not be what everyone does, but it seems fair. It’s less about being the first to get my hot take online, desperate for those all-
The ‘Full Parador’: breakfast at Asador 44
On July 31, 2022 by The Plate Licked CleanWhen is an Asador not an Asador? Why, when it’s a Parador! With the hotel upstairs now thriving, Asador 44 now has a double life: as one of Cardiff’s few consistently excellent restaurants, and as the residents’ breakfast room. Just as the rooms above are full of distictive little touches which elevate the experience, so
Ceylon Spicy Pot, Broadway, Cardiff: review
On July 23, 2022 by The Plate Licked CleanSri Lankan food is having ‘a moment’ in Cardiff right now. A sudden proliferation of pop ups and permanents means there are more chances than ever to enjoy flavours which are close cousins of Southern India but still proudly their own. Here on Splott’s Broadway, Ceylon Spicy Pot is the latest to take up the
Marmo, Bristol: review
On July 14, 2022 by The Plate Licked CleanThis feels like the right place to be as you walk in, the air heady with good things which happen here, in this small but high-ceilinged room, and from that tiny kitchen which is essentially an extension of the bar. I sit t at the bar in those tall windows, the light courses in and
Tío
On July 3, 2022 by The Plate Licked Clean‘You see these roads?’ asks Tío Angel, as we look down on Segovia. It’s an oppressively hot day in the late 1980s. He has brought me along on a work trip, and we have far to go, but for now he has pulled over and we stand overlooking the town. ‘In the summer, on weekends,
Steak and Stamp, Pencoed, Bridgend: review
On June 9, 2022 by The Plate Licked CleanSteak. Phwoooar. Flames. Huge hunks of meat. Tattoos. Burly, bearded six-footers innit? Forearms like slabs of sirloin. That’s not Lynx Africa, that’s the reek of testosterone. Big manly stuff. Tony Soprano on the grill, and he’s not cooking aubergines. But in this Jubilee year, let’s never mind that particular set of clichéd bollocks: because here’s
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.
ISB Certified
