Everywhere I look I see people mooching around in bathrobes, old gentlemen wear track suits and women sport slippers. I’m at a spa you see, and here the only dress code seems to be “casual to the point of pyjama wear”. Not that I mind, I’m kitted out in the same attire. If there’s anything I fully support it’s loungewear.
A new kid has appeared on the Old Brompton Road block. It can’t be described as anything other than a wine boutique. A shrine for people that love design as much as they love their Claret. Or Chianti. It was for a long time a building site and I wondered whether the shop would ever open. But then there it was, Vini Italiani.
It brings most wine shops to shame.
It seems my old favourite Portobello Pizzeria has fallen out of grace with me recently. After continuously being so busy that it’s impossible to score a spontaneous table, I’ve discovered a new remedy for my pizza cravings.
A little Christmas piece published on Lookingtocook.co.uk. The little Scandi went to eat a quintessentially English treat: traditional and not-so traditional mince pies.
Another review of mine in The Arbuturian.
I’ve walked past The Cadogan Arms on the King’s Road many times. I’ve briefly peered through the windows, but never stepped inside. Little did I know that the interior is a shrine to taxidermy and that the gastropub was nominated for Restaurant magazine’s R200 Pub Company of the Year Award. Those two facts alone should make you want to walk through the doors.
still or sparkling? 