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Sunday, 18 September 2016


Having slept for less hours than most people rightly should over the last 5 days, travelled more than most do in as many days, and spent more hours either pleasing others or hard at work, I feel fairly confident, if not deeply uncomfortable, confessing that I’m no longer operating at my prime. All this considered, I navigated my usual airport routine with precision and collectiveness from Prague this morning; I also made it home for long enough to efficiently swap suitcases, take a shower and do it all over again, this time on the Eurostar (no more ear-popping flights for me today then!). It’s here though, that things start to go slightly awry, all rather unwittingly.

I bought myself the obligatory trashy magazine and train drink (French beer instead of my go-to gin in a tin a la sophisticate), with sparkling water, a cheap sandwich, crisps (salt and vinegar, obviously…only to make a crisp sandwich with, of course!), and what I can only hope is a low calorie sweet treat. I fear that the sparkling water may be the only inoffensive thing about ensuing events:
  • Contrary to what the slightly rounded silver-haired and bespectacled older fellow opposite me may think, the reason I took all the crusts off my cardboard sandwich was not because I’m a pre-pubescent child incapable of digesting roughage, but because I have recently lost 22lbs in a very healthy way and my addled mind is telling me that if this is the only thing I can find to eat, I should at least try to remove half the guilt – crusts seem to be the most likely to get the chop in this scenario!
  • Perhaps I shouldn’t have inserted a fist full of crisps into my now crustless sandwich, but I guess if you’re going to do something wrong, you may as well do it right, no?!
  • As I sup my beer though, the bubbles made me burp. Not just any burp, but an almighty belch that I think may have started to tip my tutting train neighbour over the edge.
  • I may think that flatulence of all kinds is one of the funniest things on the planet, but it would seem that not all agree, so apologise I do and a disdainful grunt I receive from thy neighbour, who I’m pretty certain is now beginning to judge me beyond what would normally be considered reasonable from a fellow cross-channel commuter.
  • The trashy magazine I brought with me is not helping my cause here, by the way.
  • Note that one can still be intelligent, sane and/or successful while also enjoying the vacuous delights of bottom-feeding celebrity gossip from time to time, just saying!
  • I had a very engaging book in my bag, by the way (Panama Papers, if you’re wondering)
  • But wait…
  • Just about to take another satisfying gulp of my beer and it topples over, naturally in my direction, spilling all over not just me, but saturating the trash mag too *gasp*
  • During my last travel rotation, I cleared my bag out of all old tissues or napkins (indeed, anything remotely absorbent), so while I now have delightfully pristine hand luggage, I also have nothing to help mop up the spillage, except maybe my despairing neighbour…
  • When he looks up from his laptop, I thought for a moment, he was reaching for his hankie to help, but instead he calmly announces that it’s “…just not my day, is it.”
  • Off I trot then, squelching my way to the crummy train toilets with my tail in between my soggy legs.
  • Have you ever stood in a train toilet trying to wash beer off your crotch with water dribbling from a tap that’s operated by a foot pump?! I took them off…
  • Have you ever stood in your pants with your jeans and vest in a train toilet sink, trying to get beer stains out? Well, I now have…
  • Hot and bothered from drying my clothing under a microscopic and distinctly ineffective hand dryer, I drag my garments back on, trying to ignore the lingering beer smell permeating from me.
  • There’s a queue outside the toilet. I can only apologise, but now I smell like I’m drunk, so what’s a girl to do?!
  • With a relaxed, witty sense of articulated self-deprecation, I greeted my aloof train neighbour with the bashful acknowledgement that none of this had been my most dignified or fortunate of experiences.
  • Response: A big fat TUT
·         *silence*
  •  The end
So, now I smell like beer, I have trapped wind from holding in all the other burps that may well have been unexpectedly explosive; I can no longer separate the sticky pages of my beer-stained trash mag, my leftover crusts are sat in a pool of residual beer that I can’t mop up because I still don’t have anything absorbent and I can’t see a bin anywhere. I’ve probably gained an unwanted 1lb with the crustless crisp sandwich, and my grumpy train neighbour is doing everything he can to avoid eye contact.


Tuesday, 17 May 2016

Posh chips & a culinary eclipse at The Mayfair Chippy!

I defy any self-respecting Brit to say anything remotely negative about a humble portion of chip shop chips in all their sweaty goodness, enveloped by paper, smothered with sea salt and saturated in the cheapest of malt vinegars; eaten with either yer grubby fingers or a crap wooden spork! Yes, that's right folks, there's a special place in my heart for a good chippy.

Raised and nurtured by a mother who viewed the local chippy as the ultimate in culinary treats, it was always clear in our household that chips should only be eaten out of the paper whence it was sold to you, and that your chippy should be chosen carefully - the frying fat must not be old or cold, the correct potatoes must be used, batter scraps are an essential additive and the vinegar must only be malt! Having grown up in a coastal area too, I am altogether rather predisposed to appreciate the greasy goodness of a village chippy. I'm nervous then, about visiting a posh chippy in Mayfair that comes complete with proper cutlery, cheffy thrice cooking tactics, and heaven forbid, actual crockery. Whatever am I doing?!

Conveniently located in-between Oxford Street and Grosvenor Square, North Audley Street gets a thumbs up from me, albeit mostly because its sister street, South Audley is attached to Mount Street, which is coincidently one of my most favourite in London (I know, I know, it's a tenuous link that requires you to ignore the ghastly eyesore of the US Embassy in the middle of it all eh!). Lest I digress though, the restaurant itself is unassuming from the street, but chic, simple and refined in a way that Mayfair does typically do very well. Inside is super cute too, with décor that plays ample homage to the theme - I'm a particular fan of the tiled tables and chequerboard flooring choices.

Allow me to start with the epic! There is something divinely decadent about ordering fish 'n' chips with a bottle of bubbles, and I applaud the marriage of perfect opposites. The tables all boast the obligatory bottle of Sarson's, with salt and pepper shakers at the ready. The menu is exactly what you want and need it to be and I don't suppose anyone would go without here, not even the vegetarians! The house piccalilli served with Pea & Ham hock Fritters (£6.00) were supremely tantalising; the smoked cod's roe served with the Baked Sourdough Bread (£2.50) was everything and more than I hoped it would be; and adding Scraps (free) to the menu is nothing short of triumphant (batter scraps remind me of childhood in all the best ways!). Last but not least, The Mayfair Classic (£14.50) was gargantuan in size, with ample condiments, meaty and mouthwateringly fresh fish and a quirky presentation...bravo!

Maize Farm Steak & Kidney Pudding, 
with roast onions & watercress (£13.50)
I'm positive that the vast majority of you would be delighted to hear too, that the chips here were almost certainly twice or thrice cooked; they were chunky, fresh and well made. As far as I'm concerned though, this is just so tragically dull! I'm afraid to say that there is unfortunately nothing out there that can possibly even begin to replace a soggy vinegar-riddled chip that's been stuck to paper and sweated in your car for 15 minutes before you've been able to shove your greasy mitts inside the clammy portion of fatty potato-based calories! Similarly, the Maize Farm Steak & Kidney Pudding with roast onion & watercress (£13.50) was rich in sauce and jammed full of succulent meat, but a soggy Pukka pie it was not. I'm beginning to realise that this venture may have been wasted on me, despite my ordinarily refined palate. I should be ashamed of myself, I know! Oh, and by the way, the batter on the Scampi Tails (£9.75) and the Crispy Cornish Squid (£6.50 / £10.50) was a little too much too, I'm afraid, sorry.

Overall then, a wonderful establishment with a cracking menu, attentive staff, pleasant wine list and jolly good food. I think it just all boils down to the fact that for me, a chippy should be a little more grotty or greasy, and altogether a little more homegrown! There's a time and a place for fine dining, but chips are not it in my book...
Maize Farm Steak & Kidney Pudding, 
with roast onions & watercress (£13.50)

Square Meal The Great British Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Crispy Cornish Squid, with roast garlic & parsley mayonnaise (£6.50 / £10.50)


The menu!
Fish Art!
Bakes Sourdough Bread, with smoked cod's roe & butter (£2.50)
Scampi Tails & Chips (£9.75 / £12.75)
Back room, ideal for private dining
The damage for 4 people
Table tiling appreciation!

Monday, 4 April 2016

Gyoza Bar just opens in Covent Garden...

Gyoza Moriawase (£9.50)
Another day and another new opening in the West End. And what’s the only thing better than a dumpling den?! Obviously, it’s a crispy dumpling diner! Yes, I'm not entirely sure that’s a thing either, but it’s all a matter of semantics and I'm shying away from the proper debate because almost a year ago, I vaguely recall getting in a cuffudle over the char siu bao / hirata bun / gua bao distinction when Bao opened its doors in Soho – now I find myself in a tizz over the between the potsticker the gyoza since the opening of Gyoza Bar last month in Covent Garden, next door to Murakami.

Crispy Japanese Chips (£3.80)

I do wonder if infact there is a “proper debate” when it comes to humble dumpling, but I am astonished to learn that I have but merely scratched the surface! Over the years, I have fallen in love with the Nepalese momo in Kathmandu, discovered Polish pierogi in London (of all places!), scoffed Chinese har gau for dinner 3-4 times per week for the last year, and completely overlooked the fact that Italian ravioli is indeed, also a variety of dumpling (probably why I love it so!). BUT, did you know that there are over 20 varieties of dumpling from around the world?! The Vietnamese have a chewy tapioca dumpling (banh bot loc), Mongolia fill their buuz with mutton, the Korean’s use kimchi in mandu, and the Turks stuff manti with minced lamb among others. All variations on the same theme I hear you cry...

Now, as a greedy food-obsessed cretin, I would defy anyone to tries to tell me that winkles, chips and batter scraps from a British seaside chippy are even remotely the same as escargot and pommes frites a la bourguignonne from a French brasserie, so to that end, herein lies the difference between a Chinese potsticker and a Japanese gyoza. Very simply, the latter often has a far finer textured filling, they’re smaller and generally more delicate, made from a thinner readymade wrapper instead of the thicker homemade wheat flour dough. And that’s it folks! Both are traditionally filled with pork and both look almost identical. Anticlimactic isn’t it!

Lamb Jalapeño Bun (£5.00)
With dumpling now sufficiently taking over my mind, I rather fatefully stumble upon this new opening on St Martins Lane, next door and attached to ; chopsticks at the ready and a time limit to keep to (yes, even I succumb to the pre-theatre meal on at least two occasions per annum). Sleek and minimalist in design, with warming wood tones, I'm a little confused at first because two doors on a perpendicular angle suggest they are one of the same, but each have their own sign – I solve this puzzle at the end of my visit, so all will become clear shortly!
Stewed Belly Pork Bun (£4.50)

Greeted by immeasurably friendly staff, willing and able to seat me without a reservation (I rather wrongly hadn’t thought to bother), the maitre’d must’ve read my mind because she tucked in a little alcove, looking out to the restaurant before me (otherwise known as the best seat in the house…in my world at least!). The drinks list nodded to the orient in the right places, but also gave me a buttery dry chardonnay, which was enough to please me very much after a busy day a la work. The menu is much more than just gyoza too, so brace yourself for some tasty bao and at least six varieties of ramen. I wish I’d tried the ramen, but I can tell you that the bao were overall very satisfying (not quite up to the benchmark set by Bao, but still very good). The breaded chicken in the Chicken Katsu Bun (£4.50) was a little dry and I wish the lamb in the Lamb Jalapeño Bun (£5.00) was a little more melting, but I was not at all dissatisfied.
Chicken Katsu Bun (£4.50)

I must say though, I was a little disappointed to not see more gyoza on the menu as per its namesake. You will find the traditional fillings of pork (£6.80), vegetable (£6.20) and chicken (£6.50), but they also offer a salmon (£7.50) and an interesting ebi dangojiro (£7.00), all cooked perfectly and delicious to eat, but there was nothing outlandishly exciting about any of it (I tried all of them for £9.50 in one mega plate – Gyoza Moriawase). For example, the Nikkei Gyoza (£9.95) at Chotto Matte are filled with pork, prawn and cassava, then lain on a heavenly bed of aji amarillo and sweet potato puree, which shows off their fusion concept with immense precision (the very best of Peruvian flavour versus Japanese classicism). Classic is amazing, but innovation in a city full of innovators makes the competition immensely stiff eh…

Oh and before I forget the mystery of the double door! I went to the toilet at the end of a very pleasant dining experience, but when I opened the door, it was like walking through the wardrobe into Narnia! OK, perhaps not quite so theatrical, but there was no toilet, rather the restaurant next door in all its glory. I walked from a casual and warm bijou gyoza bar, into a buzzy and chic sushi restaurant, a minimalist design throughout marrying the two halves. I almost loath myself for ruining the surprise for you!

Square Meal Gyoza Bar Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato 

St Martins Lane entrance

Inside Gyoza Bar, with view of toilet door to Narnia!
My perfect little alcove!
Open kitchen in Murakami (adjoining Gyoza Bar)
The damage for 2 people!
Toilets accessible through Murakami, downstairs!
Inside Murakami Sushi & Sake - adjoining Gyoza Bar
Inside Murakami Sushi & Sake bar - adjoining Gyoza Bar

Monday, 21 March 2016

An affair with Mele e Pere

Do you ever have those moments when you genuinely consider making a den under your desk, complete with cushions and an oversized fluffy duvet, just to save yourself the bother of yet another morning rush hour commute?! You know, those days when you’re either still in the office at 21:00 or still drinking in some Soho dive at midnight (just long enough to miss the last tube, naturally!), but you have to be back in le office again in just a few short hours and the only thing happening between those times is a mildly restless sleep (my mandated 09:00 start has over the years, somehow morphed into a silently tolerated 09:30, not because I’m a hip corporate dissident you see, but because at 33 years old, I still cannot drag my burger-encrusted rump out of bed at an hour that seems altogether socially unacceptable, especially in dark winter months). Anyways, tonight was yet another of those nights. I finished work late and conveniently baited a friend into a wanky cocktail before journeying home. The cocktail never happened (too late for BOGOF at B@1 it would seem!), but we did stumble upon Mele e Pere neatly blushing on Brewer Street.

Designed to mimic a traditional neighbourhood trattoria as best it can do on the urban streets of Soho (not so much, by the way!), it appears to be a tiny bolthole on first impression, quietly humming with folk occupying the window seats with small plates and vino. But of course though, because this is London, there is a staircase leading to an intimate basement that positively buzzes with occasional diners and peppy workers; so peppy infact, that I'm pretty sure our waiter offered himself on a plate at least twice! I forget his name now, but whoever you are treasure, long live your opportunistic table manner and I hope you are by now philandering as frequently as your Latino pants can carry you!

Tagliatelle with beef ragu (£8.00 / £15.00)
Leading with drinks, I realise all is not what it seems! Yes, I can get some pretty decent Italian wine and of course, I can bathe in Prosecco (which I did!), but first and foremost, this is a vermouth bar. Who knew such a thing existed?! Not I, it would seem! Are we staring down the barrel of a new trend, set to usurp the resurgence of gin in the capital?! I thought vermouth was just an odd tasting liquor that gets splashed into a martini and fondue – evidently though, as I have since learned, this stuff is a type of Italian fortified wine, flavoured with various botanicals that comes in white, red, amber and rose varieties, and is either sweet or dry (sometimes extra dry). I bow to the concept and wholeheartedly applaud the extensive choice on offer, but I'm afraid that since my very subjective palate tells me I don’t like its medicinal tones, I must stick with my bubbles.

Black ink orecchiette, parlourde clams,
courgettes and chilli
Moving onto the food then, bubbles in tow, I am drawn to the small plates because the main meat and fish options seem rather overpriced for the unfussy trattoria concept I've been thus far sold on. After the obligatory Bread and Focaccia (£3.00), I reverted to my default plea when I can’t decide between two dishes – can I have a small version of both please, kind sir?! Thankfully, the Tagliatelle with Beef Ragu (£8.00 / £15.00) was already offered in little or large portions, but our frisky waiter also gracefully allowed me to sample the Black Ink Orecchiette, parlourde clams, courgettes and chilli (price unknown!) in a beautiful miniature bowl. My only regret is that I didn't also get the Potato Gnocchi with Umbria Black Truffle (£11.00 / £20.00). Incidentally, this is precisely why you can’t tear me away from a buffet and why a tasting menu is the superior choice in the more upmarket of eateries – one must try a little of everything!

Italians may all be as crazy as a box of frogs, but they do know how to create sublime perfection out of gastronomic simplicity. I loved that our frolicsome waiter was in tune with the bijou but confident menu, that the chefs plated up some delightful food (not earth shattering, but very pleasing nevertheless), and that the vermouth bar is an innovative idea, setting them aside from the pack. Mele e Pere is not mind-blowingly sensational, but it certainly has enough of the good stuff for a very cheerful shout out! 


Square Meal  Mele e Pere Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Tuesday, 8 March 2016

Does "Billy & The Chicks" do the trick?

What do you tend to think of first when you see chicken on the menu? 

  • Rubber chicken dinners – yawn
  • Sunday roast at home – would rather have lamb
  • Dodgy KFC when you know you shouldn't – oops! 
  • Nandos – someone still needs to tell me what all the fuss is all about with that one. 

It’s all a little bit average, don’t you think?! 

It’s nice then, to see that the humble chicken has been getting a bit of a makeover lately, with the likes of CHICKENliquor in Brixton, Chooks in Muswell Hill, and Chick nSours in Dalston (Mother Cluckers and The Orange Buffalo are also pretty big on the food truck side of things, roaming about various London hotspots). Until recently though, there was nothing much on offer centrally…that is until Billy & The Chicks opened its doors in Soho in December.

Tucked discretely down St Anne’s Court, a narrow through-way between Dean Street and Wardour Street, I was somewhat intrigued to see what was on offer. I absolutely love a good fried chicken, but have not yet found anything to rival our American friends’ efforts on home soil. I could also die happy in a well-made vat of buffalo sauce, so a bucket of tasty wings also make for a worthy scavenger hunt (the best I've found so far are from Blues Kitchen in Camden, rivalled only by MEATliqor, but I hear that Sticky Wings on Brick Lane is superb – I fear that further investigation on the topic is much overdue!). And who doesn't love a succulent chicken burger eh?! I foresee a win win culinary experience this evening…

The joint was empty when we walked in, not even anyone manning the well-adorned DJ decks, but we were hungry and committed, and the décor was funky with its exposed brick, window seats and urban vibes. We assumed a prime window licking position at around 18:00 on a pretty dank Tuesday evening, then somehow the place filled up around us without us even noticing – by 19:00 it was buzzing with the hum of fellow après work diners and the music was delivering some retro triumphs! By 20:30 though, it has mostly cleared out again, which reminds me that this is more of a pitstop diner akin to its peers – absolutely not a bad thing!

On first impressions, the menu is a winner and the cocktail menu is not over-engineered or exhaustive. The choice of eat-in or take away is great and more places should take heed of this flexi approach to grab food – let’s face it, there are plenty of whopping burger joints these days, but very few that actually allow you to order and run with your gastronomic spoils (MEATmarket has been my juicy saviour until this point because Five Guys and Shake Shack fall short every time!). I'm afraid to say though, that the best thing I ate by a long country mile, was the side of Mac n Cheese (£3.50)…it was so good that we ordered a second portion and I could've/would've comfortably eaten a third portion if I thought I could have gotten away with it…infact, who am I kidding?! Just bring me the whole pot and I will sit in it with a spoon!

Stinger Burger with cheese (£13.00)
The Stinger Burger with cheese (£12.00) was succulent and amply plump, but I found myself rather ambivalent towards the spice mix covering the meat that wasn't quite right (burnt maybe?! Not sure. Can't put my finger on it, sorry), the cheese that I couldn't much taste, the bun that was not nearly as soft or interesting as I wanted it to be, and the accompaniments that didn't really add anything whatsoever. One of the chums ordered a Veggie Burger (£9.00), which to be honest, also fell a bit flat on the eager palate. The chips on the side were all a little withered and insipid too. Humph!

The prices are good, the service was on point, the beats were a sensation (not too loud either, which pleases my old soul!), and despite my distinctly average food choices, I still really rather liked this place. Perhaps if there is a next time, I will dive balls deep into the side dishes only though – Buffalo Wings (4 for £6.00 / 12 for £7.00), Chicken Pieces (£2.50 per item) and of course, a double helping of the Mac n Cheese (sorry, I meant triple helping!). 

Wish you could've been a little better, but thanks for having us, we had a sterling evening… 

Square Meal Billy and The Chicks Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Thursday, 25 February 2016

ENJOY YOUR CHEESE(!) at Androuet

wouldn't typically have thought that lying in a hospital bed would be the traditional breeding ground for literary inspiration, but since I'm currently wedged between a man to my right with the most god awful toe nails I've ever seen, and a geriatric gent to my left who won’t stop wailing for help inbetween hocking up his entire chest cavity, I am in dire need of a distraction! After those rotten claws though, I am somewhat loathed to admit that my mind has wandered to cheese, specifically a cheese evening I enjoyed a little before Christmas. I sincerely hope, with every fibre of my being, that my most favourite of all dairy products will not forever be tainted by association. Committed I have though, so continue I must…

It’s been a while since I've visited Spitalfields and my, what a sanitised place it has become eh! I rather enjoyed my rainy stomp from Moorgate, navigating my way through all the roadworks around Liverpool Street and admiring Broadgate Ice Rink en route though. By the time I arrived, the market had all but packed up and closed, but the few permanent dining hotspots were starting to fill with the après workers all gagging for liquid sustenance and trendy nibbles. Elbows at the ready, I nudged my way into Androuet by way of their rustic cheese bar.

Almost full and mildly chaotic on a dark and damp Thursday evening, I scrabble to find a safe spot on which to visibly linger. After 5 – 10 minutes of being jostled by every server forced to rummage with intent next to me, I am joined by a friend who then transforms my inconvenient loitering into a persistent nuisance, so most graciously, we were seated at an open corner of the bar (#win!). Gagging for a vat of French chardonnay (the Côtes du Jura ‘Chardonnay’, Marie & Denis Chevassu 2012 to be precise, priced at a rather reasonable £35 per bottle), we pre-empt the good stuff with some plonk on tap (Poivre d’Âne, Mas des Agrunelles, Languedoc 2013 at £21 per bottle). We wait far too long for it, but when it does arrive, another friend has arrived and we’ve already been moved from the bar stoop to our very own high table, which works out perfectly. The wine on tap was surprisingly palatable too…nothing like the goon bags I used to guzzle from indiscriminately in Australia (for those of you who saved your livers the disgrace of the “silver pillow,” goon is incredibly cheap boxed wine that is the life source of any self-respecting hostel dweller!).

Wine safely secured then (with the chardonnay on its way because the tap stuff disappeared in a hot second!), we turn to the menu of cheese, not to be confused with the cheese menu of course – the former is food and the latter refers to the shop of cheese out back (I’ll get to that shortly, but for the sake of effect, I would like to say cheese one more time…cheese!). Everything on this menu pays homage to cheese and even those few dishes that don’t have cheese in them are a perfect accompaniment to cheese. If I believed in heaven, this is what it would look like.

I was a little worried that service would be slow based on our frenzied arrival experience, but I need not have worried because food was plentiful, timely and delectable. The Raclette Cheese Tapas (£4.50) was an absolute steal and I’m not ashamed to say that I had two…one for a starter and one for dessert (I’m far too old to care about judgement, especially when it comes to cheese!). The Androuet Classic Fondue (£13) was exactly what I wanted from a tank of molten cheese, the Saucisson Charcuterie (£5.50) was generous and adorned with enough baby pickles to ensure that we all felt sufficiently satiated; and the Tortellini with tomatoes, basil & mozzarella (£14) was flavourful - with bread on the side though, it was a bit of a carb overload (I'm not complaining!), and I wish we’d ordered it with the Comte cheese sauce instead of the garlic butter – this was minor and self-inflicted blemish on an otherwise sublime dinner.

Before lugging myself homeward in a wine induced haze, I dragged me and my burgeoning belly into the cheese shop just before it closed. Despite being scolded by the [over]protective French guardian of the cheese (apparently one cannot touch the cheese because it bruises easily, but since I was buying said cheese, I was forced to point out that my handling of it was an inevitable necessity – but thanks for making me feel like a naughty tween), I was suitably impressed by the choice of cheese on offer. Scanning the cheesy stash, I stop in my tracks after spotting the Brillat Savarin and my grubby mitts go in for the kill…if you've not heard of it, GET INVOLVED! Infact, if you’ve not heard of this whole place, GET INVOLVED…it’s informally buzzy, deliciously cheesetastic and quite frankly a bit of a rarity in a city that seems so overwhelmed with burger joints!

I just said cheese 22 times!

Square Meal Androuet Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Cheese Shop 
Cheese AND WINE shop, evidently!
Raclette Cheese Tapas (£4.50)
Androuet Classic Fondue (£13.00)
Tortellini + Tomatoes, Basil & Mozarella (£14.00)