Nick leaves the protective embrace of the M25 to find fine and fun dining alive and well far from the madding crowd.
Reading the London-centric restaurant reviews in the big papers you’d think there was nothing much going on outside Zone Five.
Apart from, of course, on those occasions when the writers have been on holiday, at their second homes or visiting relations, and so have reviewed any half decent local place so as to get their travel costs back on expenses.
You might also think fine dining/tasting menus had all but disappeared in favour of things bunged in a fire or pickled in a jar.
Londoners, well at least the younger ones at least, can be a bit snotty about tasting menus. I think it’s a subliminal fear of cutlery and napkins, as well the potential horror of eating just as a couple with no sharing plates or long tables to distract you, only the ‘phone. Continue reading