I have written before about tea entrepreneur Kyle Whittington’s tea and noodle tasting events, which at £15 are some of the best-value evenings in London. Kyle, who runs an online one-stop-shop for lovers of the leaf, has just started a new tasting concept where participants sample a range of teas alongside paired cheeses. Obviously, cheese […]
I’m going to come right out and say it: Breakfast Club Bingo is by a million miles the most fun you can have in London for a fiver. Or £5.75, I suppose, once you’ve added the DesignMyNight booking fee.
I am currently writing this from my bed of shame and guilt after an epic episode of what my fun and fruity workmate would describe as ‘carbicide’. I’d gone along to the new branch of Vapiano in Soho with the ever-trusty Carla Juniper, and we’d accidentally eaten, well, everything. We had to be practically bowled out […]
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 […]