I do so love the word smashed’. It’s everywhere, from the roll-my-eyes-whenever-I-hear-it-near ‘avocado’ (is there some edict preventing it being crushed or mashed or bashed or pulverised just the once?) to the sub-moronic ‘bantz’ of hairy-handed dinosaurs and braying City boys. It’s enough to have your eyes rolling so hard you risk the structural integrity of your bony orbits. But it really is the word Read More
Amble down Whiteladies Road and round into Cotham Hill, and you pass more good places to eat than grace some whole cities. The lovely Bellita has been featured on this blog recently but grabbing headlines since it opened last year, has been Pasta Loco, which makes me overdue a visit. There’s no dreaded kids’ menu: they just Read More
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
Meandering country lanes? Check. Dog bowl on the floor? Check. ‘Bob’s eggs, £1’ from a few doors up, next to an honesty box on the bar? Check. A pre-starter of hot, sour lobster soup from a stock of real depth and character, punchy with Thai flavours? Homemade bread, homemade butter, a rich canary yellow? A 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
And so to Liverpool. I fell in love with this city many years ago, with its pride and its humour and its grit and its grandeur, its resilience, its defiance in the face of governmental neglect and southern disdain. In England, but certainly Scouse before ‘English’. It gets under your skin, this place. This is 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.