A delightful lunch at Bread Street Kitchen, St. Paul’s.
Sequestered, Chapter One.
“Doesn’t taste like Newark”.
El Celler de Can Roca.
The gastronomic eqivalent of ‘perfect pitch’.
The Ledbury.
There’s more to The Ledbury than four courses of dessert, but it’s a good place to start.
Revisiting The Fat Duck.
A title sadly not to be taken literally.
As good as it sounds.
Excessively enjoying a conveyor belt of cheese and charcuterie at Pick & Cheese at Seven Dials Market.
Wet + Wilde.
The European stopped at a charity shop and got beaten to a Chinese tea set by the fastest old Chinese lady in the world. What a hipstery afternoon it was.
Eataly in London.
Because I would prefer to line HMRC’s pockets buying Italian food rather than American candy and Froot Loops.
Eataly in Dubai.
“I’m not going to Five Guys again you fat unimaginative bastard. Take me to Eataly”
All I want for Christmas… is Christmas.
A restaurant where the lines of the uniform flow as graciously as the sequence of service.