Oysters Shmoysters at Hix

Oyster Shmoysters. Yummylicious!

It doesn’t bode well that I suffered manic food poisoning two days after lunching at Hix – although I have since realised this had nothing to do with the large plate of fabby Kingdom of Mourne rock oysters, nor the sweet, plump Duchy of Cornwall natives. It was in fact an office-borne 24-hour bug-like monstrosity that had me hugging the loo for dear life and seeing a repeat  reemergence of a Marks and Spencers mexican chilli chicken salad…

Toothpicks and Tosh at Foxtrot Oscar

So A. and E. were reunited once again for a third “date” evening of culinary experimentation, hilarity, wine-guzzling and mutual exchanges of geek knowledge. A. tanned and relaxed after three weeks swanning about in Corsica gorging on smelly cheeses and wild boar, E. shaking from caffeine overdoses, soaked to the bone and pale as a corpse. This time they met at Foxtrot Oscar, in who’s hype E. was naive enough to believe because of the blasted words “Gordon Ramsey” so often attached to this place. The fact is, beyond owning it, and – according to his fan club of diligent waiters – coming in now and again for a cheeky snifter, good old Gordon clearly has nothing to do with this place whatsoever except perhaps inflate the staff’s sense of self-importance and fill them with pretentious twaddle.