The first email from Ffiona’s PR lady was a succinct one liner in which she asked if I wanted to know more, and inquired about my publicly available site stats. Naturally, I replied with a link to my numbers and an obligatory yes to her offer. A couple of days later, Ffiona (the owner, hence the name) followed up on my reply with a personal pitch about her restaurant. She started her message by establishing both our passion for the edible things. Her pitch was much shorter than the milliards of superlatively written releases that I receive and I’ll be honest, I give very time to reading them these days. On the other hand, this was something I read almost halfway through. There was something a touch more personal about her email (or I’m just that gullible). She had told me about her hands on approach to her now sixteen year old labour of love and informed me that many local to the area, consider her restaurant to be the quintessential (ok that’s me paraphrasing now) cosy neighbourhood spot. I was sitting at a hotel lobby in Berlin when I got this and thought it would be nice to check it out

Tis’ time to be jolly. I have sent off my wish-list to Daddy Christmas – pending strike action from royal mail – and lined my fake fireplace with stockings deep enough and strong enough to hold the weight of a solid Leica camera. The festive lights are already up on Oxford street, and I’m already piling on the holiday pounds as every other night is yet another night of tableside firecrackers and paper crowns. I will have to reinstate my gym membership

It happened during the summer after I graduated from university. I was attempting an eight week trip to cover five different countries, sampling unagi at all the destinations I touch down upon. By far, the most memorable experience was at Kura in Sydney – a modest space, a short sushi table, man was it good. So far, nothing in London comes close in terms of quality for the money, but at least we have restaurants such as Hare & Tortoise, which provide value for money