Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. (You know this will not be good, right?)
The s.o. and I were up n Newcastle and we decided to go to Jamie’s “Italian” for lunch. What a mistake. And it’s upsetting too cause I think Jamie Oliver is adorable and talented. Continue reading
I have said time and again that I hate it that so many restaurants don’t take bookings. You either sit people in 5 minutes or if you can’t, then for the love of all that is holly, take bookings. So, when a chef friend took me to Franco Manca (Tottenham Court Road branch) and I saw the queue he had to hold me in place by force. OK, I’m exaggerating, he promised me that I would not regret it. And I didn’t. Franco Manca is one of the very very very few places where I am happy to wait.
There is something that is an absolute priority for me when I visit any place. Courtesy. I don’t care how amazing your food is, how excellent your decoration, how many snooty Chelsea – bred people you’ve got sitting around, you are in the service industry/ hospitality sector and you will piss me off if you are rude. This is where the Radio rooftop bar failed spectacularly. This is where Bocca di Lupo wins an epic victory.
It was the Italian Saturday. We had been to The Glamour of Italian Fashion and we were about to die of hunger.
I had heard really good things about an Italian around Soho but seeing how it was all booked (pre-theatre dinner anyone?) we decided to try somewhere else. Browsing on my phone I remembered having read nice things about Polpetto (couldn’t remember what things) and so we headed that way.