My recent annual visit to London (U.K.) was the best yet. And, as a long-time defender of British food – yes, this in the face of doubters and haters who think gray roast meat and overcooked brussels sprouts typify that island’s grub – even I was surprised at the high quality of chow (almost) everywhere we ate.
Ross and I spent two weeks covering a wide area of that magnificent city – the place where I lived during formative years from age four to 19 – while sleuthing food, live music and just plain old fun.
This was in between hanging out with my mum who, at age 88, is alive, kicking, still speaking seven languages, being a culture vulture, savouring Goethe in the original with her morning coffee and teaching young ‘uns to read at the local primary school in Primrose Hill. Read more…
