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.
Because I would prefer to line HMRC’s pockets buying Italian food rather than American candy and Froot Loops.
“I’m not going to Five Guys again you fat unimaginative bastard. Take me to Eataly”
A restaurant where the lines of the uniform flow as graciously as the sequence of service.
Remnants of the Tartufo and sausage pizzas made for an exciting working-from-home lunch the next day.
“I would have wanted bigger portions”.
“Of course you would”.
Transparency being the father of fabulous dining, I particularly enjoy the window by the toilets, looking into the kitchen.
Guildford Positano doesn’t have such incredible P.R. as ‘sexiest Italian restaurant in town’ or ‘kick-ass Sunday brunch’, but it does hit the mark by being a properly decent neighbourhood haunt.
Please get out there and support my wonderful industry and the equally wonderful people who depend on it for their livelihoods.
The real triumph here is seeing this little local business giving it everything it can to stay solvent – just one of many fantastic examples around the country.