London
Smart even for Chelsea: Josephine Bouchon reviewed
Josephine is a Lyonnaise bistro on the Fulham Road from Claude Bosi. It is named for Bosi’s grandmother and is…
A creche for nepo babies: the River Cafe Cafe reviewed
The River Cafe has grown a thrifty annexe, and this passes for democratisation. All restaurants are tribal: if dukes have…
A great-day-out cafe that’s good value: Kenwood House reviewed
The immaculate bourgeois socialists of north London – that is not code for Jews – like to eat and drink…
Things Fall Apart: Flesh, by David Szalay, reviewed
The fluctuating fortunes of an ambitious young Hungarian in London provide a gripping study of the choices that can make or break a life
The tiramisu is one of the loveliest things I’ve eaten anywhere: La Môme London reviewed
La Môme is the new ‘Mediterranean’ restaurant at the Berkeley, Knightsbridge’s monumental grand hotel. It has changed, as all London’s…
Three’s a crowd: The City Changes its Face, by Eimear McBride, reviewed
Tension mounts between young Eily and her 40-year-old partner, Stephen, when Stephen’s daughter, Grace, appears, underlining the couple’s different ages and experiences
Have I been blacklisted by the binmen?
Monday, and Camden council have yet again failed to empty my food waste bin. They never miss my rubbish or…
The supreme conjuror Charles Dickens weaves his magic spell
Peter Conrad reminds us how the skilled stage performer, always yearning for enchantment, even introduced a few disguised magic tricks into his fiction
How to get a table at Audley Public House
The Audley Public House is on the corner of North Audley Street and Mount Street in Mayfair, opposite the Purdey…
Is this London’s most anti-car borough?
In a city at war with the car, there’s plenty of competition. Lambeth has hiked the cost of residents’ parking…
Is a soul the only thing unavailable in Harrods?
The Harrods bookshop, which I browse for masochistic reasons, is mesmerising: an homage to the lure of ownership. The first…
Dictator dining
The Savoy Hotel is a theatre playing Mean Girls with a hotel attached to it, so you can expect it…
Not worth its salt: Wingmans reviewed
I see this column as an essay on cultural polarisation: artisanal butter can only take you so far into wisdom.…
My business predictions for 2025
Headed for ‘the worst of all worlds’ is not where any of us would wish to find ourselves at the…
Something out of a Spectator reader’s dreams: The Guinea Grill reviewed
Back to the past: it’s safer there. There is a themed restaurant dedicated to George VI of all people, near…
Ideal for winter: The Dover reviewed
For British people, America is an idea brought by cinema, and The Dover, the New York Italian bar and restaurant…
A light in the darkness: Home Kitchen reviewed
Home Kitchen is in Primrose Hill, another piece of fantasy London, home to the late Martin Amis and Paddington Bear.…
The appalling truth about London’s ambulance service
‘An old lady’s fallen down – quick! She’s bleeding. Come help.’ An elderly woman lay on the entrance steps of…
Gen Z love ecstatic dance. Would I?
Two months ago I moved to London and found it a disorientating experience. Most of my friends were already settled…
You’re spoiling us: The Ambassadors Clubhouse reviewed
The Ambassadors Clubhouse is on Heddon Street, close to Savile Row and the fictional HQ of Kingsman, which was a…
An otherworldly London: The Great When, by Alan Moore, reviewed
Is occult knowledge even possible in the age of the internet? If a recondite author obsessed you back in the…
The stark, frugal world of Piet Mondrian
In September 1940 the Dutch abstract artist Piet Mondrian arrived in New York, a refugee from war and the London…
Fog, tea and full English breakfasts: Monet and London, at the Courtauld, reviewed
For the maids on the top floors of the Savoy, everything was in turmoil. The 6th had been commandeered by…
Familiar scenarios: Our Evenings, by Alan Hollinghurst, reviewed
There’s a certain pattern to an Alan Hollinghurst novel. A young gay man goes to Oxford. He’s middle class and…
Are you Beatles or Stones?
You find me in the south of France, holed up in that inn of near perfection called La Colombe d’Or…
