Try us, they say, maybe this time you’ll finally get it right. As it is, it’s a ramen restaurant in Kensington and apart from the Korean couple at the next table glancing over in curiosity that I choose to interpret as derision, nobody I’m with really cares whether I use chopsticks or not. Everything about it in photographic detail: yellowing edges, tea stain, magazine, the arrow, the movement. I must hold my pen differently than the rest of the world. Around seven times out of ten, when confronted with them, I’ll pick them up anyway. It’s part #foodporn and part desperate search for authenticity where previously, perhaps, you had none.
I can manage to get gyoza to the plate without any major incident, although I am always self-conscious they will collapse when I pick them up and the other people I’m sharing them with will roll their eyes. It’s kind of ironic the increased pressure on food to be an experience, that you not only savour but promote as part of your lifestyle, tends to remove the very thing food is supposed to give you – pleasure. You’ll be in a restaurant, in a group, and once you have spent a good 20 minutes debating whether it is okay to order the same as someone else – it is it is it is, for GOD’S sake, just eat what you like – you will order the steak and, for some reason, this decision comes under scrutiny that somehow evades presidents, CEOs and newspaper magnates.
We had met a couple of times already; I’d been to a party at his place and we’d even been out drinking beer (together with other friends). Oh I didn’t tell you about my picky must-have-list? It’s a new year after all – and new years are for new beginnings.
Once, on hearing a guy say he “couldn’t understand why someone would have their steak any other way than rare”, I decided to bite.With an American study from Western University showing... The importance of LGBTQI Pride in the UK and beyond extends further than a gay parade and party.