We started the meal with a mutton roll, a delicately spicy croquette filled with mutton meat, its pancake coating bright and crispy. Then an almost lacy dosa, a kaleidoscope of texture, soft and chewy and crispy, the batter a little tangy and nutty, to be dipped into sambar.
The menu is utterly confident in its use of offal and traditional Chinese ingredients in the most innocent looking parcel: a steamed bun.
It all starts before twelve, just before most Londoners will show up, sluggish from too many drinks the night before and seeing the early hours of the day, and crowd…
In the case of Chinese laundry, pictures of geometrical dumpling omelettes, and sides of pale milky buns, trickling onto my Instagram feed, looked spanking fresh, and astonishingly not swimming in oil.
I’m perched on the sofa and Alex is cooking. He’s an ambitious cook, Alex; he will never whip up something quick and easy – if he wants to cook, then…
As I write this, it’s an impossibly beautiful, crisp, bone-cold winter day outside. The sun, low on the horizon, fills the quiet suburban street with deceivingly golden light which masks the…
I believe Sticks’n’sushi is an unfortunate name. No? Just me? Sticks and sushi. Sticks, sushi. You kind of expect it to be the sort of sushi restaurant you find in…
We fell in love when I was sixteen. I say we because, although many people would argue that sushi doesn’t really have feelings -it being food and all that- I…
In London, sometimes you’ve gotta queue. And if it’s for pillow soft bao, it’s even worth it. My Saturday started with a mission. After drooling over dozens of instagram pictures…
