There’s something for everyone in the arcades of Brixton Village Market and Market Row. You might be checking out The Wig Bazaar (I’m not judging) while stocking up on vegan beers; you might be stocking up on sausage from the Columbian carniceria, or shopping for ingredients in the Eritrean grocer. You’re not going to go Read More
Anyone who is tired of kebabs, is tired of life, as Samuel Johnson (probably) said. Who doesn’t love a good kebab? It’s one of those imports which has become absorbed in classically UK style, an end of night staple from Turkey via Germany which always seems likea grand idea at 2.15 am. It’s as British as cricket, drizzle and Read More
Fans of undercooked beef might enjoy this one; by the same token, ‘well done’ evangelists and soapboxers might do well to save themselves and me the bother, and check back in later. You can probably tell why. I’ve been keen to revisit Bleecker since last year’s Dalston Street Feast, where they had a corner stall, Read More
The queues outside Padella tell their own tale: within minutes of the lunchtime doors opening the place is crammed, yet the lines still form on Southwark Street. It’s a small space, with diners sitting up on kitchen-front stools and at marble ledges in the window, with another room below. The menu is compact: five antipasti, Read More
Tayyabs seems to have a strong foothold in popular folklore as one of those places you just have to try. As a result it is noisy, hot and crowded. Tayyabs is famously BYOB- sweetest of all acronyms- and having drawn a blank on the haul from the Tube, we happened upon Shelly Food and Wine Read More
You could lose hours in Brixton Village. A bustling, gaudy microcosm of London, with flags familiar and unfamiliar draped from the roof, and stalls with baskets piled high with fascinating produce from near and far, people from every corner milling around. It thrums with life and seems custom-built to give a Daily Mail reader an 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.