Old Monsieur Charles-Guillaume Etienne is apparently the man we have to thank for coining the maxim, On n’est jamais servi si bien que par soi-même. (Here he goes again, comes the collective groan) Bear with me. I mention M. Whatsisname because those words have come to us, not literally but certainly in spirit, as the adage: ‘If Read More
WARNING. If you are hate gangster films, or meat, or terrifyingly grim puns- this post isn’t for you. No hard feelings. Don’t say you weren’t warned, though. You know the scene. Mob boss Leo (the greatr Albert Finney), settled in for the night, newspaper draped over his midriff as he enjoys a late cigar, lies Read More
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 of Read More
If you set yourself up as a ‘Steakhouse and Wine Bar’, and if your menu is divided into ‘Steaks’ and ‘The Rest’, you have to be confident in what you offer. Especially when your some of your prices stray into Hawksmoor territory, by common consent one of the very best steak restaurants in the country. Read 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 floor Read 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 and 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.