The pig gets a bad press, doesn’t it? It’s shorthand for personal slovenliness, for indiscriminate gluttony. Its flesh is denied to hundreds of millions by religious prohibition. They don’t even escape in literature. From Homer to Orwell, they are despotic political manipulators or brutish victims, the result of Circe’s enchantments and a vivid symbol ofRead More
Warning: this post contains medieval history. Spanish medieval history. Don’t say you weren’t warned. La Cuina is one of those little gems everyone should know about. Lurking up a Canton side street- where Patagonia stood- you find yourself wondering where you heard ‘compact and bijou, Mostyn. Compact and bijou‘ as you enter. The ground floorRead More
Mowlana is in no-man’s land; or what your satnav would call Four Elms Road, where the Roathiness of Newport Road gives way to the Splottiness of Clifton St. And if you say that’s not a real word, I’d respond by saying- I’ve got a bottle of chupito de manzana straight out of the freezer andRead More
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.