An enoteca in Spitalfields, east London, will be selling a different Tuscan red by the glass each day, with dishes to match.
Can only native Italians bake real pizza and must they hail from Naples for it to be authentic?
Cardamom and fenugreek, garlic and chilli, black pepper and sea salt: just some of the grotesque additives with which these Shropshire smallholders coat their death discs.
The new multicultural South Africa should stop banging on about Pinotage and embrace Cinsault, a French grape so cosmopolitan that it’s even comfortable with curry.
Sue Douglas’s Diary.
French-Algerian writer Sarrazin was in prison for armed robbery when she wrote her autobiographical first novel. The singer-songwriter Patti Smith celebrates a book that guided her through her youth.
The dark underworld of West Yorkshire rhubarb forcing.
Cinemas warn you to put your mobile phones on silent but say nothing about the clash of jaws or the gargling of gullets.
It's not all about whisky north of the border.
Two new books on cooking and interiors explore 20th century society's biggest paradigm shift.
Searching in vain for chicken soup in Gothenburg.
No one in their right mind would ever visit a garage for the love of gastronomy, yet everybody who’s passing through seizes the opportunity to put something in their mouth.
Look beyond your nana to the mysteries of sherry.
Please, don’t tell me about your pious dry January.
It’s time for a new conception of acceptable female drinking, one that doesn’t cut the drinking short at half a glass delicately-sipped Babycham.
The wrap is still more fundamental to western Judaeo-Christian and Islamic culture than we perhaps care to acknowledge.
Burritos are mating with pizzas: 2014 will be another year of great food produced by culture clashes.
Red alert: “dry January” is no fun so drink selectively instead.
Jam is not a food – it is <i>the</i> food and no survey of the true eating habits of our commonwealth would be complete without spreading this good news.
The disillusionment of plunging a fork into something that claims to be a pie, and almost immediately hitting plate, is like no other.
You know how it is when you eat something just knowing it’s going to make you feel sick - worse than that, when you begin eating the sick-making food already nauseous, yet munch on just the same?
Here's a friendly piece of advice: a conscientious host should "exercise some ingenuity over the eats. It may not merely be a jaded appetite, but a connoisseur in food who comes to her informal party."
It's traditional for the US president to pardon a turkey every year before Christmas - and this year, the people are being given a vote on which one to save.
Mycological mayhem in Epping Forest.
"In Boston, I deliberate between the Fiscal Cliff with blue cheese and the Mark Zuckerburger."
The cheap food store doesn't care for PR, and prides itself on transforming communities, one Bubble Bobble Prawn at a time.
In 1958 the International Air Transport Organisation upheld a complaint by Pan Am that the sandwiches served by European competitors amounted to “a fancy meal”, ruling in future they must be “unadorned, self-contained and not include such fillings as cavi
There's plenty of marijuana-smoking and khat-chewing on my doorstep - in the park it's all good fun. It's in the park where things get wiggy.
Beer can feel like a club that doesn’t want me as a member and I’m no Groucho Marx.
That food should be subject to the most ruthless commoditisation under late capitalism is only to be expected, but that we should for one second allow ourselves to enjoy it is a miserable and gut-wrenching experience.