As anyone who looks at this blog regularly will know, I’ve been woefully slack at writing up my food experiences over the past few weeks. This isn’t because I haven’t...
It’s been remarked on more than one occasion that the decadent mix of cosmopolitans, singledom, careers and boy talk that my friends and I enjoy in Amsterdam is reminiscent of...
Where I used to live in Brixton, the ill-reputed underbelly of London, my flat was directly opposite an Ethiopian restaurant. My then-boyfriend used to joke that we’d be greeted by...
In a world in which the word ‘organic’ holds the power that the Vatican does amongst Catholics, it’s easy to be a cynic, an org-nostic. Dissent comes naturally when those...
In preparation for our holiday in Croatia next week, Nicola and I decided to make the most of the last of the summer sunshine (of which there’s been pitifully little...
Yesterday, my best food-friend, Andrea, took me to her favourite lunch spot. Gartine is tucked away down one of the ‘steegs’ that line the horror that is the Kalverstraat on...
Yes, it’s like London Fashion Week but for foodies. How good is that. And I was lucky enough to get first dibs on the participating restaurants because one of my...
Italy, summer 2000: up at 5 am, running bleary eyed to the beach – the sky and sea a silvery grey in the dawn light – to set out on...
My Spanish friend Andrea claims that it is impossible to find good tapas in Amsterdam, but I am determined to prove her wrong. Given that she is of the opinion...
