a gastrocentric survival guide for Londoners
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.
The last time I did a photo essay was my welsh monkfish tales post. Shot in the Old Kings arms hotel restaurant, I am still yet to post about my 2 1/2 month trip to southern Wales. I’ll do so soon, lots of pretty food pictures, and lots of great food.
I’m sure you all know by now that I love sushi. I usually wake up pretty late on sundays and look for a relaxing place to eat around lunchtime. I tend to settle down at my local Pret-a-manger and have my ritualistic ham and cheese croissant with a cup of cappuccino. Last sunday, I thought I’d break from tradition and venture out to high street kensington as the sun was begging me to get out. I ended up the top floor foodhall at Wholefoods.
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