We have an odd culinary relationship with tinned food. In higher society, rare and supposedly exquisite goods such as tinned baby octopus, foie gras and caviar come in beautifully crafted, artistically designed tins.
After many days of grocery store food, sitting down for a deliberate, slow, expensive eating time can be the best.
A tuna steak and a salad? Seventy bucks. Welcome to Los Angeles.
If someone else is paying for it, food just tastes a lot better.
Sometimes the buzz of reading about others eating comes from the voyeuristic thrill of seeing how the other half lives: the gold leaf and truffles or - in the case of Trimalchio's feast in Petronius' 'Satyricon' - the dormice and honey.
I love to take things that are everyday and comforting and make them into the most luxurious things in the world.
'Fine dining.' I'd love to know who coined the term and whether they meant it to be as offputting as it is. The words evoke an idea of phoney refinement, of needless flummery, snooty waiters, and an atmosphere designed to intimidate the customer.
A pound of Alaskan king crab legs and buffalo shrimp = happy Travie.
People are bored of these 12-course gastronomic menus. They want affordable glamour.
The golden rule when reading the menu is, if you cannot pronounce it, you cannot afford it.
My three-course meal would be: smoked salmon with capers and a few prawns on there as well. Then it would be a dover sole grilled on the bone with a portion of green beans. And if I wasn't dieting or looking after myself, my favourite pudding would be bread and butter pudding with custard, ice cream and clotted cream all together!
I didn't have a sweet tooth, but I liked butter, and I liked sauces, and I liked wine... and curry... and cheeses.
In London, there is no need for 25 high-end gastronomic restaurants. That would be too much.
When I go out, I love steak and caviar.
