There’s a brush with fame element involved in a visit to The River Cafe. It’s there in the notorious chocolate nemesis (the downfall of many an aspirational home cook). It’s there in the block coloured books that line the entrance hall. It’s there in the spirit of the Jamie‘s, Hugh‘s, and Tobie‘s who payed their …
Eating out – London
How do you know a trip has begun? A wise friend once suggested you know with the hiss of tonic over ice- that first drink when you’re safely tucked onto a plane. She doesn’t drink gin and tonics any other time- she saves their twang as a land mark that tells her that something good …
A hangover is a terrible thing. Whether it’s the sleep deprivation, thirsty synapses, or bitter swill of your stomach, there are only two things that I know to fix it. One is a swim in the ocean. The other; a strapping breakfast. There are no beaches worth mentioning in the spitting distance of London. Which …
It’s time to say farewell. To strawberries and cream and folks lying out on the grass wearing nothing but their underwear. An English summer is a curious instance. Waiting for it is like playing hide and seek with a rambunctious four year old. It can be plum boring searching for it- and then- just as …
Welcome to Saturday mornings in Borough, London. My home, for the past year. When we’re in town, this is what a Saturday looks like. Wake up. Check whether it’s sun or sleet out the window. Grab the canvas shopping bags, sunglasses, empty flagons, wallet, keys, spouse. Walk down to the markets (sometimes even hand in …
