‘Beautiful’. The Humble Onion’s salted focaccia, the taut, fragile bronze breaking apart for its airy crumb to be dredged through herby, grassy oil and its thick, sweet plug of balsamic. ‘Just…beautiful.’ A rolled lamb breast which combines a light crust with the wanton wobble of rich fat, a scattering of little cubes of pickled cucumber, Read More
The demand for Kapow deliveries is already the stuff of local legend. I may be exaggerating. But not by much. Theirs is a mischievously old school approach. The ribline goes live at 7pm: within an hour they are sold out. Reports of 50, 60, 70 and more attempts on the night are not uncommon: over Read More
It’s a great name, no? Instantly evocative of the Stones’ infamous 1971 classic- founding member Bill Wyman has a tourist trap burgers’n’ wings joint with the same name in Kensington- it’s certainly digits to the fore: there’s hardly a dish here you won’t end up messy with. Anything which works on both levels and has Read More
Let’s get the predictable gripe out of the way first: these aren’t tapas. Call me pedantic, call me awkward. My defence is Castilian blood. This isn’t ‘liking Spanish stuff’ as a lifestyle choice, this stuff is genetic. And if you still don’t get it, tickets for my one man show CAWL AND IRISH STEW ARE Read More
An unexpected hour to kill on the school run. I want big flavours, I want something with spice and aromatics. Where to eat when you want lunch with heft? “I’m not paying to do a bushtucker trial”, says my friend, and that’s from someone I’ve always thought of as a trencherman. Thus are the battle Read More
The language of offal is peculiar. Gutsy, hearty, plucky, ballsy: we assign moral qualities to offal, positive ones. Eating the stuff, though? That’s much more divisive. Even inveterate meat eaters might greet the phrase ‘edible viscera’ with the same glee you’d reserve for ‘New on Channel 5- Celebrity Air Traffic Controllers with Joey Essex!’ Many 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.