It’s a spring morning, and light is flooding The Gallery Restaurant at Fortnum & Mason. The royal grocers is yet to open, and there’s just a gentle murmur amongst the guests who have gathered for breakfast. Chilled champagne, steaming coffee, an impeccably-set table. It’s the epitome of a sophisticated, British breakfast….
It’s a Monday afternoon in early September and a small crowd of professional oyster shuckers are gathered at Holborn Dining Room in London for the annual Tabasco British Oyster Opening Championship….
I remember when I ate my first olive. You can’t say that about most things. Pasta, strawberries, bread, sausages – they’re all things grabbed in a chubby baby hand, squashed, sucked and chewed.…
One of my saddest moments happened when I went to boarding school aged thirteen. It wasn’t down to feelings of abandonment or any old-fashioned fagging system. But I came face to face with the stark reality that normal people didn’t eat ice cream for breakfast….