Marina O'Loughlin on restaurants
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The beetroot starter has got technique, panache, creativity. Well, it has until the pal whispers, ‘They look like tampons’
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The specials board is where the real stars hang out. We have a couple of fat, tender octopus legs, charred into sticky smokiness
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‘How on earth have I never been? This is nourishing for body and soul, and huge fun’
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‘Every detail is attended to: of course the temperature is balmy; of course the tome of a winelist is bound in softest leather; of course the acoustics are perfectly judged’
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No matter what fish, fowl or foraged fungus turned up on the day, it would issue from Norn’s kitchen transformed into something ravishing
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The menu comes across like girlie dude food: insubstantial and Instagrammable
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The pal, who’s had more hot dinners than even I’ve had hot dinners, says, ‘This might be the nicest thing I’ve ever eaten’
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Eating this is like waking from a dream of taste and texture: sweet, salty, sour; suave, crystalline, crisp. Blissful
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I’m satisfied and happy, not bloated with the cheap carbs and self-loathing that lesser pizzas trail in their wake
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This isn’t food to revel in, it’s food designed for a breathy, titillated voiceover on mainstream television
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Our lunch for two costs 15 quid. Given the freshness of the ingredients, and the vibrancy of the pastes and spices, this is quite the bargain
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The food is fine, but you’ll hunt high and low for a frisson
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‘If they do embark on an expansion plan, anyone lucky enough to welcome a Padella to their neighbourhood should put out the bunting’
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It’s a gorgeous place to hang out. Should you mistakenly imagine yourself in Madrid, there’s a mosaic of Frank Sidebottom and John Cooper Clarke to keep it real
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This isn’t a barbecue joint, it’s a restaurant that barbecues: and a thunderingly good one
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Would I be so forgiving in a designer joint in Mayfair? Of course not. But I also know where I’d rather be
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It looks like an over-decorated gallery caff, every nuance of loucheness syringed out of the place. You can almost smell the Hirst artworks increasing in value
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A ‘Korean burrito’ is obese and clammy, with all the visual allure of a used nappy clogged with indeterminate vegetable matter; thanks to some mushy haddock, it has the fragrance of one, too
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‘As the beautiful meal plays out, it all starts to make a Through The Looking Glass kind of sense’
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The food is mostly excellent and occasionally sensational. But always tiny
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I could get used to having a hot dog as an amuse-bouche if it weren’t for fear of my arse taking over Britain
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I’m guessing communal tables are the very definition of casual, but they give me the gibbering fear
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It’s all too corporate and slick, overproduced and soulless, safe and anodyne: an M&S cashmere of a restaurant
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The menu may be anchored in Caledonia, but it doesn’t so much wander around the globe as stagger drunkenly across it
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There comes a point where purity teeters towards Puritanism
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They love a bit of theatre: viciously sharp knives are stabbed into tables with a thud; meat is butchered loudly to order
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A meal without a single missed beat is as unusual as a non-menopausal Paul Hollywood fan
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True, the coffee isn’t the greatest, but then you’re not supposed to order coffee, but tea the colour of a Geordie lothario
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The chicharrónes may well be the poster meat for unhealthy living, but they’re heavenly
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This isn’t where to come for reinvention of any Spanish wheels: it’s a fleecy comfort blanket of familiar dishes
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We’re intimidated even before getting to our table, perhaps because I’m wearing H&M and my own face
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‘It was local wisdom, not the chef’s success on Great British Menu, that led me here, and I’m glad it did: it’s a little treasure’
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‘You can’t fling an organic parsnip in Bristol these days without hitting a fine little independent restaurant’
Topics
- Food & drink
- Restaurants
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- Italian food and drink
- United Kingdom holidays
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- Damien Hirst
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- Spanish food and drink
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- Poole
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- Rick Stein
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