Hutong
You’d never really know it until you’re up there, high above everything, but London sprawls in a way that shocks you, there is a shapeless morbidity to our capital.
You’d never really know it until you’re up there, high above everything, but London sprawls in a way that shocks you, there is a shapeless morbidity to our capital.
“The recent surge in prominence of Japanese-Brazilian concept restaurants could, depending on your point of view, be taken as the overdue recognition of an adventurous brand of fusion…”
“Even before we ventured East in search of the Hakkasan group’s new temple to fine dining, we’d heard stories. These tales were a consistent paean to what was rumoured to be the best Chinese food in London…”
It’s times like these I’m thankful I know no fear of heights, for there’s no place for the vertigo-prone on the 35th floor of the Mandarin Oriental New York.
It’s late on Wednesday when the phone goes. It’s Foodie Ed. The conversation goes something like this: “Is that you Richie? Course it is. Listen, I’ve got a job for you. See I need someone solid, reliable, not afraid to put a bit of fork about, know what I mean?
“Chinese chef, Alvin Leung, is something of a legend in Asian gastronomic circles, an avant garde performer who stands alone in terms of creative vision and culinary style.”
“Whether it’s gorging on hot cross buns for Easter, tucking into neeps and tatties on Burns’ Night or seeing in the Chinese New Year with spring rolls and a few glasses of Jiu, I’m never one to turn down a food-related festival…”
“The lobsters are the most generously proportioned I’ve ever seen. They sit in huge tanks in the centre of the restaurant, beautiful and languid and blissfully unaware that there’s a small Chinese man coming towards them with a portable net in his right hand…”
When Sake No Hana first opened several years ago, I thought it was the headquarters of some murky secret society; it looked so mysterious from the outside. The external walls were almost entirely black and disconcertingly opaque…