Steak. Phwoooar. Flames. Huge hunks of meat. Tattoos. Burly, bearded six-footers innit? Forearms like slabs of sirloin. That’s not Lynx Africa, that’s the reek of testosterone. Big manly stuff. Tony Soprano on the grill, and he’s not cooking aubergines. But in this Jubilee year, let’s never mind that particular set of clichéd bollocks: because here’s Read More
Mowgli, Honest, Pho, Rosa’s: Church St has become a hub of the better chains. And now here come Fat Hippo. Starting in Newcastle in 2010, this is not an overnight success story but a steady expansion across the North before the moves to Wales, Birmingham and London. News of their Cardiff arrival was greeted with Read More
‘So- to the train station? Where is home..? You been in Bristol long? But you used to live here? Ha. You come for a woman, yes? You look like a man who likes a lot of women… Oh, just seeing friends this time..? You can’t fool me… it is good to schedule a holiday from Read More
There’s a little Community Notices board on the kitchen’s outside wall on Birch Road. This is where you come if you’re looking for a lost cat or guitar lessons- or the services of a ‘foot health practitioner’, if you’re in the market. More relevantly, you also come here for a menu which makes easy picking Read More
Some meals you remember fondly. Some you recall suffused with some soft golden glow, because somehow you felt a connection with the place and you just fell for it: an infectious sense of being in the right place at the right time. That’s the best of eating out isn’t it? Incongruously, the elegant dark blue Read More
Usually, the definitive review of a new restaurant comes some time after it has bedded in. They’ve established an identity, you’ve got a frame of reference. That’s not true of Pontcanna’s Thomas by Tom Simmons, because the first review, from The Octopus Diaries blog and written soon after it opened a little after two years 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.