Published 13 November 2026
An ode to the pub in all its eccentric glory by food and drink writer, Suriya Bala. A plea for branded ketchup, pies with tops and bottoms, and decent house wine. We’ll raise a glass to that.
Emails written by chatbots, complaints on the rise, Claude scanning the wine list… Has the dining public’s reliance on tech gone too far? “It has created this obscene customer who acts like a war criminal to the staff,” comments one restaurateur, somewhat hyperbolically.
Marina O’Loughlin quotes the world’s number one luncher, Fergus Henderson, in this paean to the best meal of the day: “Lunch spells possibility. It is a hook on which to hang your day, whereas dinner is merely a full stop.” Hard agree.
Tanya Gold, settling into her berth at the Observer, makes a good point: “no one wants to visit a real 18th-century London restaurant unless they are mad”. But she seems taken with Cloth Cornhill anyway, now open at what was Simpson’s Tavern, the city’s oldest chophouse. We really need to go for the £29 steak frites, salad and pudding menu, available on Fridays only.