The Foodie

As we descend into the subterranean dining room at Rextail, leaving behind the cold of a spring night, the insistent,…

You’d never really know it until you’re up there, high above everything, but London sprawls in a way that shocks you, there is a shapeless morbidity to our capital.

Squally showers and insistent rain beat down a tattoo on the pavement beneath our feet. The glistening slabs, uniform in their grey municipality, are punctuated only by a discarded fried chicken wing here, a sad single shoe there.

Squally showers and insistent rain beat down a tattoo on the pavement beneath our feet. The glistening slabs, uniform in their grey municipality, are punctuated only by a discarded fried chicken wing here, a sad single shoe there.

With spring sprung, Aintree run, The Voice won and the boat race to come, we turn our hand to domestic…