“You’re in Hoxton of a Thursday evening. It’s time for dinner. One of two things is probably true: either you’re a hipster, so you don’t eat, or you’re in a Vietnamese restaurant, disappointed that you couldn’t bring your own booze…”
The recent surge in prominence of Japanese-Brazilian concept restaurants could, depending on your point of view, be...
Even before the Captain and I ventured East in search of the Hakkasan group’s new temple to fine dining, HKK, we’d...
I’m reading the Evening Standard, occasionally glancing at my phone to note my date is running late. I also note that...
The Docklands area is an unknown land for most of us; a mystery for those of us who don’t get to don a well-tailored suit and head off into its murky depths to worship at the slippery altar of high finance.Read more ›
“You can see Copenhagen’s balls from here!”. Excuse me? “What on Earth are you talking about” I said to Mr P, who was stunt double for Lady Stirling this particular evening. “Copenhagen, his balls, you can see them quite clearly from here”. He was right.Read more ›