Tag: 4****
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The Ivy Oxford Brasserie — “Nice” in every possible sense
The Ivy brand holds an interesting position in the British psyche. It’s the restaurant equivalent of saying someone’s lovely. Not brilliant, not exceptional, just… nice. It exists in the nice parts of nice towns, where nice people go for a nice meal. The décor is nice, the service is nice, and the food, well, it’s…
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Rembrandt, Ruffs and Radioactive Bathrooms: A Business Stay at the Leonardo
Right, so I’ve just come back from a couple of days in Amsterdam, ostensibly on business, which, in my case, involves a laptop, an expense account, and the ability to identify a decent gin and tonic at twenty paces, and I was billeted at the Leonardo Hotel Amsterdam Rembrandtpark. From the outside it looks like…
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Mangosteen, Bristol: Thai Tapas That Would Make the Spanish Spit Rioja
Right, so Mangosteen on Cotham Hill. A Thai tapas place. Which is not a thing. I mean, I’m not sure they have tapas in Thailand. I imagine the word would cause the Spanish to storm out into the streets, slapping their thighs in horror and waving jamón ibérico in protest. Because “tapas” are their thing.…
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Home Farm: Glamping for People Who’d Rather Be at The Ritz
Let’s be absolutely clear from the start: I don’t camp. Anyone who’s read my reviews on my website or stumbled across me elsewhere online will know this. Camping, to me, is about as appealing as elective root canal surgery performed in a field. Four-star hotels I can handle, five stars I actively adore, but sleeping…
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Starbucks at Bristol Airport: Lukewarm Glamour, Hot Coffee
It is 7.30 on a Monday morning and the Starbucks team are ready. Four of them, finely tuned, a slick caffeine machine primed for battle. Orders fly, cups stack, names are misheard with military precision. You cannot fault them. They are sharp, cheerful, and efficient in a way that feels almost suspicious in an airport.…
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Noah’s Bristol: Beurre Blanc and Bikers’ Bladders
This is a tale of two halves. Or more precisely, a tale of two halves glued together with monkfish mousse and chip-shop grease. On the one hand, Noah’s is very good indeed. The food is excellent, the service bang on, the view of Clifton’s Regency crescents is beautiful. On the other, you’re eating your hand-caught…
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Côte Brasserie, Quakers Friars, Bristol – A Hug in Slipper Form
Sometimes — and I know this will offend the ‘small-plates-served-on-slates’ brigade — you just want to go somewhere nice, sit down, and have a good meal without the faff. No QR code menus, no foam, no bloke in a beard explaining the origin story of your butter. Just food. Hot. On a plate. With cutlery.…
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Sushi Saki, Barcelona – iPad Sushi and the Death of the Buffet
There was a time, not so very long ago, when the words buffet and Japanese together in a sentence meant only one thing: a heroic bout of salmonella, followed by 48 hours writhing in a Barcelona Airbnb praying to the porcelain gods and whispering promises to never, ever, eat again. You remember the scene: a…
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CiaoCiao, Barcelona – A Midnight Slice of Sanity
The great thing about arriving late into Spain — the only great thing about arriving late into Spain — is that the Spanish eat late. I have no idea why. I’ve asked them, often and earnestly, and they simply can’t tell me. They shrug, they gesture, they smoke, they look at me like I’ve asked…
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The Riverstation, Bristol – As Close to an Institution as It Gets (and Yes, I Know There Are Loads of Institutions in Bristol)
There’s a thing that happens when you live in or around Bristol long enough. You start throwing around the word institution like it’s seasoning. The Lido this, The Ivy that. But when it comes to food – proper, grown-up food that doesn’t come with a side of TikTok – there is one place that quietly,…
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