A delightful lunch at Bread Street Kitchen, St. Paul’s.
“Doesn’t taste like Newark”.
The gastronomic eqivalent of ‘perfect pitch’.
There’s more to The Ledbury than four courses of dessert, but it’s a good place to start.
A title sadly not to be taken literally.
Excessively enjoying a conveyor belt of cheese and charcuterie at Pick & Cheese at Seven Dials Market.
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.
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.