For some reason I’ve been thinking about Frankie Howerd today, so in best Lurcio style: THE PROLOGUE. If news of The Beefy Boys’ imminent arrival in Cardiff doesn’t quicken your pulse, gladden your heart and put a spring in your whatnot, you might well consider dialling for an ambulance. Now. To borrow a sporting metaphor Read More
Hereford has always loomed large in my memory. It was here we went when I was -what? seven?- to stay at a house belonging to friends of the family. Or their parents, anyway. ‘House’ doesn’t really do it justice, though: it had its own stretch of river, its own tennis courts, even its own croquet Read More
Plenty. That’s what I want from somewhere like this. Bounty. I want a spread which represents in its plenty the fecundity of the oceans. The teeming, glittering shoals, the scuttling, darting crustacea. I want beady eyes and shells and pincers and frankly extravagant numbers of legs and the effort of extracting their meat, and I Read More
If Spanish home cooking has a jefe, a boss, in this country, then that title surely belongs to José Pizarro. If I had to name one UK-based Spanish chef who inspires me, who has helped popularise the food I grew up with and care about most of all, it’d be a shortlist of one. His Read More
It’s all about the momo, baby. Since I first came across them at Natraj on Bristol’s Gloucester Road in the early 1990s, these have always been something I look for on menus. Trouble is, as a mainstay of Nepalese cuisine, they’re not often found, or at least not in these parts, so the quest typically Read More
Some shoes are harder to fill than others. You might not want to be the man to replace Christian Bale as Batman, but you might fancy your chances of improving on Steve McLaren’s record as England manager. In any walk of life it’s a gamble, but sometimes the cards fall kindly. In the case of 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.