Five minutes’ walk to the west of Highbury & Islington station you’ll find Sunday on Hemingford Road, which – misleadingly – is actually not only open on Sundays. And, regardless of its founders’ woeful grasp of basic SEO principles, it makes the best pancakes I have ever had, anywhere. Brace yourselves; I’ve got photos.
Words cannot describe how excited we were to visit L’Atelier de Joel Rubuchon. We’d put on proper shoes, strapped ourselves in to our big girl pants and made a pact not to swear for at least two hours, or at least not loudly. For a brief while, we were going to be Ladies.
I want to start by saying I am normally the kind of person who throws any old teabag into a mug, pours hot water on it and then lets it stew for ages, like a good grudge. Because I am very lazy, I often don’t bother to remove the teabag. I just let it slosh […]
What if I told you there was something going on in East London sort of like the World Cup, but not shit? There’s booze involved, certainly, but patties instead of players, buns instead of balls and, er, gherkins instead of goals? And a democratic vote at the end in which everyone chooses the winner together? And […]
“This,” I announced to the Robert, the head chef of Clockjack Oven, Soho, after two glasses of wine and a faceful of its signature rotisserie chicken, “is the wettest bird I’ve ever had.”
“Have you guys decided what you want to order yet?” asked the waiter. “Yes,” I said. “Steak please.” And laughed myself senseless. The waiter, who must have heard the joke about 50,000 times before, made a half-hearted attempt at a guffaw before asking how I’d like it cooked.
Shoryu Ramen on Kingly Street is so new Google Maps hasn’t even got it yet, which is how I accidentally ended up at their branch on Regent Street. Luckily, the noodly micro-chain’s latest addition was just up the road, so by the time I’d ridden my boneshaker up Regent Street I’d only kept my dinner […]
My father, who famously eats almost anything, once told me that eating oysters is like “swallowing a cup of cold snot”. He is not wrong, I’ve tried them myself. Until last week, though, I’d never had one baked, which turned out to be quite revelationary. A baked oyster is the smoother, softer cousin of the […]
“Bloody hell!” said James 1, my flatmate and dinner companion, as he glanced down at the menu. We were at Pizza Union, a new pizza bar off Liverpool Street that offers ‘superfast’ oven-baked pizzas at suspiciously low prices. I looked down myself and, yes, bloody hell, the numbers on it really were very small indeed. The […]
I took my mother to the Queen of Sheba in Kentish Town on the recommendation of a workmate. It serves Ethiopian cuisine, which my flatmate once unkindly remarked must not consist of very much. Turns out he was wrong, they have loads of cuisine. Cuisine coming out of their ears.