I’ve been impressed by Café Anglais on a number of occasions but I thought it was famous for roast chicken, and not particularly great for solo diners. So, ever since they emailed me to say an oyster bar had opened I’ve been itching to try it.
Some stories go on and on. I suppose you cannot blame people for desperately trying to wring every last sou from their fifteen minutes of fame but I had to smile when I read that Peter André has signed up for a cook book. I try very hard not to overuse exclamation marks, the vulgar back street Pot Noodle of punctuation. But WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Perhaps we can look forward to digesting “101 recipes for over-ripe melons”?
Langan’s Brasserie has been around as long as I can remember. Certainly it has endured more than its fair share of Andy Warhol’s allocation and draws good and bad reviews. But generally I find it very well patronised for a place that by many estimations is several eons out of fashion.
Marketing null points! The sign makes it look like a Hungry Hippo All-U-Can-Eat Sunday lunch with foam balls and cheap beer. But step inside and nothing could be further from the truth. Fine seafood, fine wine list, fine (but relaxed) service and with just enough quirkiness and kitsch to make you smile.
Is it possible to feel remote in a city centre? I think it is. I am not talking about loneliness, or feeling culturally distant from people stood next to you. I am talking about sitting in silence whilst the world goes on several floors below. This is what the atmosphere is like at The Modern in Manchester.
I have never been to the Ritz. This maybe because I can’t afford it, or it could equally be because, to enjoy the Ritz fayre, I would have to bypass The Wolseley, right next door at 160 Piccadilly. This is something I have not yet achieved.
Stumble It!
