Rootmaster can be found somewhere near Brick Lane, and serves a small but interesting lunch menu (I’m told dinner is fancier and a little better) in pleasingly kooky surroundings. They’ve managed to overcome the risk of being a style-over-substance type of venture, too, and despite a slightly alarming ambient hipster density. If I were to offer an actually useful criticism, I’d point out that on an August afternoon, putting your diners in a metal box directly above the kitchen smacks slightly of having not quite thought things through. It wasn’t a big deal, and we could have sat outside. Continue reading Additional adventures in veganism
Saturday was spiffy, if confusing. The highlight was undoubtably the Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart production of Waiting for Godot. Not far behind, however, was lunch at Saf.
There are a couple of warning signs on the menu. There were dishes annotated if they were heated over 48˚c, and a cocktail section entitled “Non-alcoholic elixirs”. That did make me a bit twitchy. But on the whole it’s free of the kind of tree-frotting, hemp-clad, wont-you-try-my-tofu-and-unicorn-farts-detox-chakra-quiche bullshit I was afraid of. Yes, I had a good meal at a vegan restaurant. Continue reading Adventures in veganism
A few days ago, by my computer, I found a hastily-scrawled note. Nothing unusual there. It was a reminder that I intended to depart briefly from tradition, and offer up a restaurant review. Fair enough. I don’t do it very often, I’m going to do it now and then, and I’d probably have forgotten – I’m full of plagues at the moment. Except that this was not what it actually said. What it said was:
and thereby hangs a tale.
The Gourmet Burger Kitchen, (located in this particular case on Regent St, Cambridge) is a shithole. Were it called The Shithole, it would still be over-selling itself. Now, it’s a chain, and a concept chain, so you steel yourself a little. But really. Absolutely fucking dire. Continue reading Adventures in eating out, part I in an occasional series.