When it to comes to putting stuff in your mouth, only the spoon will do.
At the Heart of Darkness is an unthinking trust in institutions. How else do you explain the Portsmouth Sinfonia?
I may be late to the party, but I am tough on ramekin – and on the causes of ramekin.
From without in the chilly night, the Hovel – which is a maisonette above a shop – looked cosy; I could see lamplight and books ranged on shelves.
Real Meals by Will Self.
Will Self On Location.
The visitors who have filled the precincts of the Tower of London since August have been deeply moved by the great crowd of ceramic poppies planted in its dry moat – but moved by what, exactly?
Will Self’s Real Meals.
As I sat in the cavernous and entirely empty dining room, delicately abstracting flesh-flakes from my perfectly poached cod, my only desire was that I could stay longer. Much longer.
Will Self’s Madness of Crowds column.
I can understand the logic of opening a branch of Dirty Burger in Shoreditch – but Vauxhall? Although the spirit of gentrification is taking up residence here, the fact remains the place is still what is scientifically termed a shithole.