Buns that wow at Mr Bao
I’ve finally found the solution to beating the queues of Bao’s Central London steamed bun shops: head south.
eating out
A taste of Smith and Wollensky at the Adelphi Bar
I’ve never been to New York, but I’ve known of the great American steakhouse Smith & Wollensky ever since I read American Psycho many years ago. As a discerning psychopath, wealthy protagonist Patrick Bateman name-drops hundreds of fancy brands – some real, some not – and S&W is one of them.
The Grill at McQueen: a Great Escape from bad steak
When it comes to lavs, I consider myself a bit of a connoisseur. From Sketch’s unisex egg toilets to the immaculate powder rooms of the Ritz, it’s nice to have a bog with a bit of character.
Talli Joe delivers on Eastern promise
I can’t say I was terribly impressed with Talli Joe the first time I visited, on the second day of the soft launch back in May.
Eight things I ate this September
Indian small plates, salted caramel ice cream cones and ‘Lemon Drizzle’ G&Ts.
Venison Wellington at 108 Brasserie
Winter is coming. But first…autumn!
Ormer Mayfair: love at first bite
“I’m not sure about the Dalek wine trolley,” said Mike, suspiciously, as a bar cart with invisible wheels bore down on us, reminding me, rather charmingly, of the moving podiums contestants used to come out on on Catchphrase back when Roy Walker was doing it.
Michelin star tapas at Barrafina
There’s a lot not to like about Barrafina. For instance: the layout, which sits precisely 29 diners behind a cramped L-shaped counter. Everyone else waits – for up to two hours! – directly behind them, getting in the way of pained-looking hosting staff and audibly wishing the people ahead of them would eat a bit […]
Octopus doughnuts at Kurobuta
I imagine that Kurobuta, which sits on a quiet, residential road teeming with expensive-looking dogs, has two general managers. One subscribes to Apartment Therapy and plays sommelier at friends’ dinner parties; the other is an ex-car salesman with an obnoxious sense of humour.
Treehouse treats at Squirrel, South Ken
Like me, the people at Squirrel are sick of the vicious rumour that salads are boring.
