Wingstop, why stop?

Wingstop is owned by a rapper according to my daughter. She did tell me his name (obviously I can't remember it), but if he's half as good at rapping as he is at cooking chicken, he's at least as good as PM Dawn (Google it if you're young).

Wingstop is like KFC's bigger, harder older brother, the one who went to borstal and wears gang colours in the library. The music is deafening (brilliant too, if you like the old garage tunes "I'll bring you flowers, in the pouring ray-ay-ain" etc you'll love it), while when these guys say "hot", they mean HOT!!!!! They aren't messing around here, this is an in your face eating experience, not for the faint hearted.

We went to the one in Bristol. Having negotiated the queue, we were met by the ubiquitous "have you been here before?" greeter. He explained at some length how you order, what a chicken is, the fact that you can top your drinks up and other stuff (I didn't really listen to be honest). He didn't tell us THE most important thing of all though, so I'll tell you it here. It is this, IN THIS EATERY, HOT MEANS REALLY, REALLY HOT. There's a range of sauces for your chicken (wings or tenders) and they're arranged on a thermometer kind of visual, obviously hottest towards the top. I ordered the second from the top, habanero arse blisterer or something (it wasn't actually, literally called that obviously, don't ask for it) so I suppose I WAS warned. That said, I like a chicken madras, an occasional vindalu even, and this was seriously searingly hot in comparison even to those. Sarah had a "Louisiana rub" or "Lemon and thyme and stuff" or something, in the bottom third of heat and EVEN THAT was hot. You've been warned.

Anyway, the chicken is great. The chips are fab (I had the lemon pepper ones which were best), and you can refill your coke if the machine is working (there was a problem when we were there). They even sell beer (Camden).

I think this is good fast food. I must confess I'm a bit of a KFC fan but I like Wingstop a lot. I'm not sure as a 55 year old bloke that I'd go in on my own, but I wouldn't exactly protest the next time the kids suggest we go.

It's good, try it. Please though, remember the heat.

Caper & Cure Bristol. What a delight.

Why bother with Trip Advisor if you have a viable alternative? If we know someone who lives in a strange area (strange to us that is) we'll always ask for a little recommendation. So it was this time, we were visiting our son at uni and an ex Alex superstar Becca steered us towards this little restaurant/cafe/coffee shop gaff in Stokes Croft, central Bristol, "it's a MUST visit she said", and how right she was. It was booked out, they squeezed us in after we grovelled a bit for a 9pm Friday night table.

It's independently owned, all  industrial metal air con, light bulbs hanging on wires from the ceiling, wall hangings which look like the fella who stunk of weed on the street outside banged them up in about twenty minutes, chalk boards with stuff crossed off, wooden floors with uneven bits, that sort of palaver. On the stereo there's "the times they are a changing" by Dylan banging out, your waiter and co owner is called Myles (or it might be Giles come to think of it), top lad either way who clearly knows his cebollas (I'll save you the Google trouble, it's Spanish for "onions").

The menu is on A4 paper, four starters, four mains, four desserts, it's got a kind of Spanishy/Portuguesy feel. There's another section before the starters, nibbles or light bites or something (it's neither of those but I'm buggered if I can think of it right now). In that bit whatever it's called is stuff like toasted almonds, olives, sourdough with butter etc. The almonds are labelled as "graciano" or something, the olives "Klubanos" (obviously neither of those are correct, I just made them up as I can't remember). Suffice to say they aren't getting their stock from the "taste the difference" section in Sainsbo's anyway.

We had off that bit a chorizo croquette which was bloody lovely, the bread both with normal butter and "jamon" butter (Myles/Giles did explain, but I did that nod and say "oh lovely" when you don't actually understand what he's on about), some of the olives (the size of a kids table snooker ball), some almonds (superb) and some anchovies (might have been little sardines). All were fabulous, particularly the jamon butter on bread thing, you MUST have that.

For starter I had a carrot & coconut soup which was far nicer than it sounds, I can't remember what everyone else had except Charlie my son who had octopus. Fair play to him.

For main there was a bavette steak with truffle chips. Obviously I didn't take much heed of the other stuff on the menu once I'd read that, although I do fleetingly remember the fish being either fresh cod or whole lemon sole. Milly had a gnochi thing which was lovely if you like that sort of thing, Sarah a pumpkin confit carry on, ditto. 

My steak was absolutely gorgeous, the chips jaw droppingly good. Everyone seemed to really enjoy theirs too and was keen to share bits around. They all tasted lovely in a pumpkinny/gnocchiey kind of way. Me and Charlie just wallowed in the excellence of our steak with ancovy cream (which thankfully didn't taste too much of anchovies).

We had desserts (lemon sorbets, chocolate mousses and stuff), the other three had a bottle of vino, espresso martinis and all that, I had a few pints of a local beer whose name escapes me, it was all absolutely brilliant and came in at under two hundred sovs.

The service, the food, the wall hangings, everything in this little gem of a spot is absolutely top drawer, we utterly loved it. Apparently it's owned in combination by the "iles" fella and the chef, they're mates. If anyone deserves success, it's these people.

If you DO ever go to Bristol, go to Caper & Cure. It's bloody brilliant.

Brasserie Zedel-An absolute treasure.

Where would you advise someone to go in London if your life depended upon them being impressed? I suppose it depends what they're looking for, where they are from etc. 

If for instance they were in London for only a few days, staying centrally and wanted to experience a real pub, I'd say the Guinea on Bruton Place all day long. Superb pub, great beer, top landlord, fantastic food. You absolutely can't go wrong recommending the Guinea, and similarly Brasserie Zedel in Piccadilly never fails to wow.

It has an unremarkable looking cafe thing upstairs (looks a bit like a jazzed up "Cafe Rouge") but that's not it. It's DOWNstairs where the fun starts, all art deco and mirrored poshness. Once you bypass the cloakroom & hit the restaurant, the whole thing opens out into a cavernous throwback to restaurants of old, all starched tablecloths and waiters who are far more smartly dressed than you are.

The menu is about the size of a Subbuteo pitch and all in French. Don't be intimidated, it's cleverly designed and actually not as big as it looks. There is an English version available but don't ask for it, trust your O level grade C which Mrs Jackson coached you to and Google translate, you'll work it out.

They'll bring crusty baguette and salty butter while you're looking at the menu and playing "let's all guess how many people work here". If you've ever tasted better bread and butter you're more travelled than me, it's sensational. If you can, don't eat too much of it though or you won't want dessert.

I've been loads of times over the years and can honestly say everything is pretty fab really. Last night, ninety minutes earlier I'd eaten an "American Hot" pizza at the Comedy Store before going (pretty good it was too), and drank four pints of beer. Given that, I swerved the steak (rib-eye, it's lovely) for the first time here in ages. Somewhat bizarrely (it caused consternation on our table anyway) I had a herby omelette with fries and some salad. The fries here are always sensational, the omelette & salad were too. One of our table had a venison thing which they seemed to really enjoy, Sarah had ravioli (sorry, can't remember the filling) and for the life of me I can't remember what the other lass had. 

For desserts we had poached pears, some chocolate mousse and a couple of floating island mirangue thingies. Having tried them all, everything was lush but I'd go for the island one.

Look, it's a fantastic restaurant this. Not pricey either, we had a bottle of Picpul or pitbull or whatever it's called, some coffee and one had a cheeky cocktail. It was £145 all in including service. They do a prix fix menu (set, who am I kidding?) which there's nowt wrong with and is about twenty quid. Equally, if you want to watch someone in an evening dress singing jazz standards and telling you stories about New York in the sixties (invariably accompanied by a balding fella on the piano called Gordon) you can visit the "Crazy Cocks" bit next to the restaurant bit downstairs. It's flippin good actually, and about twenty five quid for a bloody good night out that's something completely different.

The toilets are great too. Zedel is a triumph, go.