A delightful lunch at Bread Street Kitchen, St. Paul’s.
Sequestered, Chapter One.
“Doesn’t taste like Newark”.
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.
All’s Fare in beer and foccacia.
Remnants of the Tartufo and sausage pizzas made for an exciting working-from-home lunch the next day.
The great re-opening (take four).
“Ms. Galetti, it’s genuinely wonderful to meet you, but my pigeon is getting cold!”
The great re-opening (take three).
Crappy weather. But oh, to be able to dine-in, even it is out!
Aunt Claire’s brownies.
Lauded by Michelin-starred chefs, this is the recipe that got me into baking.
The carrot cake bet.
A wonderful cake born out of fear and a lost bet. Poor me.