Displaced at The Fish Place, Battersea

Fish tank

Battersea by night is an odd little place. The dark, industrial riverside, winding silently through the backyards of garden centers; badly lit wastelands flanked by lego estates, then suddenly, at the end of a fuzzy golden-flickering road, a towering skyscraper and the low-drone of a heliport. Yes, a heliport. Apparently, this is where Al-Fayed and Abramovitch park their little zippers when in town. Perhaps they even stay at the ultra-random, sausage finger-shaped HeliHotel in front of it too, then zipline across the dank Thames, Bond-style, to Harrods for a spot of shopping. Either way, tonight I am in this bizarre back-of-beyond to sample the delights of The Fish Place, a relatively new joint specializing in super-fresh British fish, in season, and a break-the-rules wine policy.

Enter the Funky Fresh Freixenet Alfresco VIP Competition!

That’s it, the sun is out, I hear rumours of 30 degree weather for this weekend, so its time to get your picnic on and pop some bubbly! The lovely folk at Freixenet Cava UK have a great competition running for all you sparkling wine fans, a chance to win tickets for you and three friends to enjoy an evening of fun, food and fizz! Fo’shizzle!

A Photo Tour of Toulouse

A brief sojourn to the South West of  the motherland, where my own weight in duck parts was consumed.

Joy for €2.50

Goodness Gracious Gstaad.

My Bag(atelle), baby!

According to the ribbon-bound, creamy, thick paper menu sitting on my lap right now, on the 25th January of this year, at about 7.45 p.m. I was tucking into a “Courte nage de langoustines au persil frais” – or “aromatic langoustine broth with fresh parsley” at La Bagatelle, restaurant of the Grand Chalet hotel, Gstaad. There may not be a press invite to “Dinner” heading my way any time soon, but boy do I  get some good breaks in my line of work.

Moustache-less at The Botanist

The Botanist - Sitting proudly on Sloane Square

In case you’ve been on planet zog for the last month, you’ll know that this is “Movember” – up and down the country, teenagers with smelly socks disguised with Lynx have been trying desperately to grow a bit of chin fluff for charity, and older generations have relished the thought of finally finding out exactly how they’d look with a Hercule Poirot ‘tache. Everyone, that is, except Neil of superb whisky blog CaskStrength who in a defiant mood shaved OFF his legendary groomed moustachio and faced this chilly month with nary a protective bristle for his upper lip.

Which is how we met him at The Botanist – under the thin pretense of a press lunch, I was here to sample to goods and see if it lived up to the hype I had created for myself.

From Quiet Pint to Ukulele Madness

Tricity Vogue rocks the Ukulele

Only in London can a quiet post-work drink at the Smithfield Tavern end up with me on a stage wielding a ukulele and taking part in an improv musical with 1920′s cabaret diva Tricity Vogue… There’s even a youtube video coming soon – I shall be sure to post it here!

The troupe in Action: Premiere of the Golden Ukulele!

ROME: “Al Bric” – A bric-à-brac of random food.

Cheesy Wonderfulness!

Al Bric just off of Campo dei Fiori in Rome is an enoteca I have walked past for four years of my life longing to go in, lured perhaps by the fantabulous selection of ultra-mature oozy French cheeses, crumbly Italian “stagionati”, the dusty collection of prize vintage wines vying for position in the window from Pétrus and  Mouton Rothschild to some Amarone that would knock your socks and feet off… I had never actually set foot in the place though until this week when I finally convinced Francesco that spending €15 for a glass of wine was just plain intelligent.

ROME: A Kosher Lunch in the Ghetto

I met with my friend Sarah who conveniently is both a food blogger, an experienced tour guide AND a fully qualified sommelier in Rome – could you ask for a better person to ask for a good lunch recommendation?

We headed to Piazza Mattei and the surrounds, Rome’s Jewish ghetto, host to a handful of top notch trattorias and restaurants as well as the day school which at 1.30 was breaking up for the day hence a street filled with camper vans full of kids and a choice of kippahs (the round head covering Jewish men wear) that included several advertising the local eating places.

ROME: THE RETURN OF THE JEDI

Back in my real home town… sort of. Land of gramicia spaghetti and burly bushy-eyebrowed osteria owners, dirty streets and chaotic inhabitants, imaginary romance and the fleeting illusion of Hollywood perfection, salty ricotta and traffic jams.

Day one was spent in Foligno, UMBRIA at the Festival dei Primi Piatti – the best translation of which I suppose is The Festival of First Courses, which in Italy essentially means pasta, polenta or rice depending on which region you’re in.

This is a land heaving with exceptional food products, but my god, not one single dish we ate was worth the pennies we spent on it.

Domaine les Aphillanthes at La Trouvaille, Soho

I took a few folk from the Rendez-Vous Francais de Londres to a wine-tasting at my favourite Frenchy hangout in central London, La Trouvaille… This particular wine-club evening was themed on biodynamic wines from the Côtes du Rhône, showcasing specifically a selection from a small domaine by the name of Les Aphillanthes, run by husband and wife duo Daniel and Helène Boulle who got into biodynamic viticulture after discovering that their son suffered strong allergies which this kind of vine growing could prevent.