Things didn’t go smoothly, exactly, at The Cauldron. They had managed to overlook the email I had sent them a couple of days before our arrival, so were unprepared for our little girl to accompany us. Consequently the available table was cramped, uncomfortably positioned, rickety and my back was at the mercy of a door Read More
So after a break, we are back- for a blogger who doesn’t blog is of scant use to anyone- with ‘simple but interesting food’ from Root at Wapping Wharf. It’s a ‘small plates which appear as and when’ deal here, in this renovated shipping container on the upper level of the box park on Bristol Read More
Bellita is the younger sister of Bristol stalwart Bell’s Diner and sits squarely in the ‘throw a stick and hit somewhere good to eat’ enclave of Cotham Hill. The name works on a personal level, too: it’s what my four year old used to call my mother, her first approximation of ‘Abuelita‘, which I take Read More
The Pony and Trap is the sort of place you’d love for your local. Long wooden pews, shaded lamps, tiled and wooden floors, leaded glass. It’s cosy, welcoming and intimate: stuffiness and over formality are strangers here, and the view is of endless fields. Oh, and it just happens to have a Michelin-starred kitchen. But Read More
I’m too long in the tooth to expect life to be fair, but sometimes you hear news which strikes you as so plain unjust that you wince. It’s so wrong that an immensely talented chef like Jonray has gone so young: it’s heartbreaking to think of Olive and Bella, on whom he absolutely doted, losing Read More
As far as hiding your light under a bushel goes, The Ox takes some beating in the self-effacement stakes. Lurking beneath a Wetherspoons in Bristol’s historically grand Corn St, with only a nameless brass plate above the door, you descend spiralling marble steps to enter a kind of subterranean gloom which makes decent photographs impossible 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.