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.
“Ms. Galetti, it’s genuinely wonderful to meet you, but my pigeon is getting cold!”
“I would have wanted bigger portions”.
“Of course you would”.
Celebrating Valentine’s Day by trying not to screw up an expensive box of raw materials.
God knows why they call it a tavern.
Transparency being the father of fabulous dining, I particularly enjoy the window by the toilets, looking into the kitchen.