how to make sushi
After four hours of OCD disquietude, my naive ‘how to make sushi’ Google sinkhole resulted in force-feeding my frustrated and starving eighteen-year-old self a bowl of hard rice, unripe avocado and inconceivably expensive Ahi.

It foreshadowed a decade of failed sushi attempts.

I took sushi for granted from my very first mouthful of maki; the demanding rice recipe process, the art of the roll, the balance of flavours. Sushi is, unequivocally, an art. Then Hashi Cooking changed everything.

Owner and teacher Reiko Hashimoto is not only the first Japanese chef to teach sushi in the UK but has been doing so for 17 years in London. If anyone could turn my incompetence around, it would be her.

With desperately low expectations for myself, I headed to The Club at The Ivy for one final attempt at successful wok and rolling.

For the afternoon, Reiko was joined by Oliver Hilton Johnson (sake educator and director of Tengu sake) and 19 other sushi chefs in the making.

To make a long story short, I can genuinely make sushi now. I know the tips. I know the tricks. I know the tactics and I understand them in a way my previously fruitless Googles couldn’t teach me. I can inside out roll, create beautiful omelette nigiri and sake pair my creations to perfection.

I even left with enough sushi to gift a friend for his birthday.

If you have ever considered a crack at the fine art, Hashi may be just what you’ve been looking for.


how to make sushi
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mercante supper club 1
I am a little bit indecisive when it comes to ordering food.

Little bit in the way that Donald Trump is a little bit awful.

It’s not so much that I’m a picky eater but that I’m someone who suffers from culinary FOMO on the daily. When I eat out, I want my choices to not only be better than the versions I could make at home but better than everything else on the menu.

Mercante have developed a rather magical way to do both.

This month, the authentic Italian restaurant launched a monthly ‘no menu’ concept supper club to showcase the seasonal delights of la dolce vita del cibo.

Head Chef Davide D’Ignazio’s evolving four-course menu is revealed to guests on arrival and plays heavily on his home country’s regional specialities.

At the supper club’s nativity, we enjoyed a plate of truly succulent pork cheek (with opaline crackling, porcini carpaccio & celeriac puree), delica pumpkin risotto amaretti with parmesan crumble, sea bass (with a shockingly tasty fennel, olive & caper salad), and a pomegranate gel panna cotta. Each cooked at our side by David while we indulged in perfectly paired wines.

The recipes of which I would also sell a kidney for.

(The ‘no menu’ Mercante Supper Club experience is priced at £55 per person for and will run on every third Thursday of the month at 7pm. Advance booking essential.)


mercante supper club
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one new change
It’s finally here, mi amigos. The day I get to pop the champagne and announce my brand new partnership with One New Change as their Instagrammer In Residence!

Over the next year, I will be sharing my favourite parts of One New Change through @lelalondon and @onenewchange (so make sure you’re following both!) and holding four exclusive Instagram masterclasses to meet and treat you all at the luxe retail destination.

Their panoramic roof terrace has long been my favourite hidden gem for indulgent London ‘me time’ but their sixty-plus shops (Topshop, Oliver Bonas, et al) and sensational restaurants make this twelve month alliance a genuine dream come true.

Thank you all for your support and stay tuned for much more!



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canova hall
While I respect anywhere with the balls to promote a restaurant, cocktail bar, hot desking workspace and nightclub as a single venue, I’m not sure Canova Hall should call themselves a quadruple threat just yet.

The newly-opened 4,500-ft Brixton baby was launched to expand on the success of the owners’ popular London Fields pizza pub, Martello Hall, and fans will be pleased to know their beloved sourdough pies have made it south of the river.

Looking like an old market canteen of hipster dreams, the atmosphere is also rather remarkable. From the moment I sat down, there was a very low bar set to charm my discerning pants off.

The food, however, fell short. The meatballs (in a ‘Nduja tomato sauce with parmesan & pecorino) were drier and less seasoned than my own. The smoked scarmoza & pancetta crocchettas (with rocket pesto) needed the pesto to draw any flavour.

The highlights were the plate of torta fritta (Italian dough balls) with salami, truffle taleggio, pecorino, riccota salata & salsa verde and zucchini fries. But I am looking for much more from a fully-fledged restaurant experience than an adoration for prepared charcuterie and fried vegetables.

Naturally, there will be teething issues. Ones I can only hope I’ve experienced here as their drink selection is incredible.

Canova Hall might actually be the sexiest place to get your drink on in South London. Their beer selections are suitably crafty (Five Points, Yeastie Boys, Fourpure, etc), they have 12 delightful wines on tap, a massive & classically-served absinthe offering, and a Barrel Aged Old Fashioned so perfect I may actually elope with it (Woodford Reserve from their barrel, maraschino cherry extract and orange bitters).

Though I left feeling relatively indifferent towards its culinary exploits, I feel Canova Hall is one to watch. Post-training wheel removal.

(Or visit for a tipsy-binge on zucchini fries, at least).

canova hall
canova hall
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santi london e20
Authenticity has been bastardised by the food industry for far too long. Any old restaurant with a creme brulee on their menu seems comfortable calling themselves an ‘authentic French restaurant’ and great menus of undisputed origin have been lost somewhere in the culinary hullabaloo.

Bizarrely, East Village (London’s former Olympic Athlete’s Village) now has one of the most authentic Italian restaurants I’ve been to in years.

Though it is only one year old, Santi has built a reputation on the handiwork of their Napolitan pizza chef and his specially-imported Italian flour.

Well aware that real Italian food is much more than pizza, I ignored all dough-swooning inclinations and decided the rest of the menu had to be put to the test.

As my dinner date clinked her well-deserved Aperol Spritz with mine, every Italian in East London seemed to decamp across the tables around us in colossal groups. For a relatively frill-free atmosphere and unconditionally Italian restaurant team, this only assured its apititude in the quest for authenticity.

At prices more competitive than any restaurant in the vicinity of Westfield Stratford, we went on to have a deliciously bona fide Italian feast; fresh calamari fritti, involtini di melazane parmigiance (translation: decadently baked mozarella-loaded aubergine), a wildly generous guazzetto (mussell, clam, prawn & sea bass casserole) served with toasted bread, and perfectly cooked sea bass with fries and vegetables.

The addition of a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc del Veneto (a dry and elegant Italian pairing for gluttonous flavour chaos) tricked us into believing we had room for dessert. We quite obviously didn’t when a handmade tiramisu larger than my head arrived next to the richest tortino al cioccolato (think chocolate lava cake with a little less lava) in existence.

I only managed a few bites but their mascarpone and espresso-heavy tiramisu was worth a return trip alone.

Santi get my authentic seal of approval and then some.

santi london e20
santi london e20
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