Tucked away on the corner of Ealing Common is Charlotte’s Place—quite literally, the building where Charlotte originally lived. The 30-year old restaurant still stands in its Victorian shop front premises with a little row of chocolate-box cottages next door. With the main door hidden round the side (and a doorbell to request access), a bar no bigger than a broom cupboard, and a narrow staircase up to the dining room on the first floor, everything about this place feels like home—with delicious, hand-crafted food to boot.
Everyone dreams of a ‘golden age’ they’d like to travel back in time to. For me, the 60s and 70s look like a simple and carefree time—where people drove without wearing seat-belts, swallowed bubblegum, had gaudy kitchen units with linoleum flooring—and were happy. At Bobby Fitzpatrick, I was able to head back in time–‘a child of the 90s heading to the grand old 70s. Retro doesn’t even cut it.
For food lovers, the combining of two meals into one seems a bit of a raw deal. But Kensington Place won me over with their new three-course weekend brunch menu, served between 12pm and 3.30pm.
I love chocolate so much that I’ve previously professed I could eat an entire M&S Colin the Caterpillar cake. When I read about afternoon tea at Belgravia’s new chocolatier R Chocolate Ldn, set up by Sir Evelyn de Rothschild, I knew this be the perfect excuse to eat, drink, and indulge in the name of ‘work’.
Friday nights you’ll usually find me in a pair of trackies excitedly planning an early night. Or putting on a predictable chick flick with a drop of wine and a cashmere throw. Less likely will you find me in a cool and trendy bar tucked in the outskirts of Paddington at 10pm (shocking!) and actually quite enjoying myself. I don’t think Mr K could quite believe it—pizza, craft ale, and a girlfriend who didn’t have to be coaxed along.
The gap between Shepherd’s Bush and Hammersmith could probably be mistaken for a ‘no man’s land’—pubs and fine dining in Shepherd’s Bush are sparse; Hammersmith is much the same. But running down the middle lies Brackenbury Road, which feels like one of the last remaining places in London where all the little shops with their large front windows haven’t yet been turned into houses.
There’s a delicatessen, an art gallery, a hatmaker, a hardware and ironmonger store, and a butcher. It’s quaint and merry, and I almost feel like we’ve stepped back into the 1900s as we approach The Brackenbury. With menus that change daily, you’ll try something new every visit from their inspired Franco-Italian menu.
Chicken. Fried chicken, buttermilk chicken, marinated chicken, anything chicken. The waiters promised me it would be infinitely better than Nandos—and they are correct.
It is an old tradition in my family that when one is hunting for an eatery, the best ones are off the beaten track. And true enough, half way down Devonshire Road in the heart of Chiswick is a tiny little café, a haven to Italian craft beer. ‘The UK’s first Italian craft beer pub’, The Italian Job draws on Italy’s eclectic craft beer scene, showcasing a variety of provenances and styles.
My ears pricked at the words ‘healthy’ and ‘salads’ and I knew I had to pay a visit to Cocotte, a ‘healthy rotisserie’ bistro on Westbourne Grove. Serving 24-hour marinated, slow cooked, free-range rotisserie chicken and a plethora of healthy and fresh salads, I had high expectations—and an empty stomach.