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”
“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.
The menu – like the room – was very small and limited. It was causing an amusing degree of confusion with a party of five Americans sat next to us.
Because if it’s not too much it’s not enough.