A couple of months ago, Giles Coren wrote a review in The Times, a small portion of which he devoted not to reviewing the restaurant itself, but to complaining about some of the other patrons dining that day a “table of pale, flabby people taking photographs of everything on their plates before eating it”; assumedly food bloggers. Mr Coren it seemed took significant umbrage at this and compared their snapping to “scrolling a BlackBerry or dropping one’s trousers in the middle of the room and taking a massive dump”, I certainly know which I’d prefer when I’m about to eat.
Twitter immediately exploded with bloggers, journalists, blogger-journalists, restaurateurs, and random commentators all adding to the great debate of the day; is it acceptable to take photos of your food when eating out? Continue reading
Grilled Asparagus with a Poached Egg and Roasted Pork Belly
A few weeks ago I took one of my best friends in the world on a date, dinner and a movie, to celebrate his aging one more year. The plan had formed around the oncoming release of Eclipse, the third film in the Twilight Saga. Yes the Twilight Saga, no I’m not ashamed; angst ridden vampires are hot, they just are, even if this particular series does stray frequently into wangst territory instead*. Initially this was to be paired with a trip to Brindisa, to satisfy my friend’s never sated lust for prawns, however like the cheap date that I am when I went to book the film tickets I immediately noticed that I could save six whole pounds if we cinema’d closer to home in Angel; that’s right six whole pounds. This meant Brindisa was off the cards, but no worry there were plenty of places for us to eat on Upper Street, and I had one in particular in mind.
So early in the week I made the call to Ottolenghi to book our pre-cinema table. Continue reading