There comes a point in every gourmand's life when she must face the awful truth: she is out of synch with the world.
Lunch is for wimps: many of us relish giving things up occasionally.
The dictionary says: "a clear alcoholic spirit distilled from grain or malt and flavored with juniper berries".
As we've been forcibly reminded in recent weeks, Valentine is the patron saint of love (as well as of bee-keepers, epileptics and plague victims) -
Once seen as the preserve of kings, game is cheap, nutritious, flavourful, and a healthy choice. And
Hold on to your heads, fellow drinkers: January is upon us and I propose to discuss hangovers.
Feeling a bit on the porky side post-Christmas? Thought of taking that new wonderdrug that friends s
The afternoon I arrived in the Barossa Valley, in the state of South Australia, I was warned that an unusually severe storm was forecast in what was proving to be a turbulent summer of unseasonable rain and floods.
Dare to challenge the orthodoxy by refusing to incinerate your Christmas turkey.
I meet Francis Kerline for lunch at the Terminus Nord, opposite the Gare du Nord in Paris.
Why foodies are getting excited about foraging
Nina Caplan explores our enduring fascination with the seductive and addictive taste of the best cof
I've been coming to the small, Devonian port town of Dartmouth for 20 years.
The NS Interview: Fergus Henderson, chef at St John
Britain is progressing past “bake me a loaf as fast as you can” and rediscovering the pleasures of w
Nina Caplan launches her Drink column for the <em>New Statesman</em> with a tour of that most unlike
The sweet pork with savoury rice (or potatoes) at £3.40 doesn't seem so bad to me, especially when it's perfectly tasty and comes piping hot on a damp, autumn day.
Felicity Cloake mulls the protein benefits of an insect-filled diet.
Strada is the cool pizza chain: it's the nouveau riche to Pizza Express's liberal bourgeois, the Campari to Domino's Carlsberg and the Fellini to Pizza Hut's Mike Myers.
My wife, who has had cause to spend some time in hospital over the past year, observes that if patients were told on admission that they would have to pay for their own food, they would have a fit - with a commensurate drain o
Britain is rich in apples, but we eat only the boring ones.
Y'know, me don' see dat David Starkey much down 'ere on me manor, seen, tho' wevver it am because he be chi-chi man or foo-foo racist man me don't know.
Felicity Cloake celebrates a new and sophisticated golden age of the cocktail
There is a deep, almost primordial satisfaction to be gained from eating at a hatch.
After the unprecedented disorders of early August - a rending of the fabric of civility on a par with the sacking of Rome by the Visigoths - it behoves even this column, concerned as it is with the plebeians' daily bread, to n
Felicity Cloake explains why Scandinavian cuisine is giving the French a fright.
"Mac-Dooonald's, Mac-Dooonald's, Kentucky Fried Chicken anna Pizza Hut!
Here's a dinner for two with 1970s sophistication but modern-day products and prices: to start, a couple of prawn cocktails at £2.09 each; to follow, a brace of 8oz fillet steaks weighing in at £12.47.
“None of my staff would work for a chef who bullied and shouted”