THIS MORNING WE ate chaats (spicy South Asian snacks): dahi vada (aka: ‘curd vada’ or ‘dahi balla’) and pani puri (aka: ‘puchka’ or ‘gol gappa’). We were not in Mumbai nor in Kolkata nor in Lahore nor in Karachi. We were sitting in a small restaurant 4389 miles northwest of Mumbai’s Churchgate Station. But we were only 20 miles west of London’s Trafalgar Square.
Falooda
We were eating our chaats in Slough, which is not far from London’s Heathrow Airport. This rather unexceptional town on the edge of London has a large South Asian population, and many shops and eateries that cater to its tastes. We visit Slough occasionally to carry out certain errands, and usually have a coffee or snacks at places on Slough’s Farnham Road. The English man with whom we deal in Slough seems to be, as far we can judge from what he says, knowledgeable about South Asian cuisine and able to cook it well. He pointed out a new Asian restaurant near his office, and we decided to try it.
Today, 12 August 2026, we visited the place he mentioned. With its garish pink façade, it is called Falooda & Co. It serves a wide variety of Indian and Pakistani dishes including the snacks we ate. As the place’s name suggests, the eatery specialises in falooda. In case you have no idea to what I am referring, let me explain.
Named after a Persian dessert called ‘faloodeh’, falooda (or sometimes transliterated as ‘faluda’) is traditionally made with rose syrup, vermicelli, sweet basil seeds, sometimes kulfi (an Indian icecream made with boiled down milk), and milk. Since mediaeval times, when this dessert was introduced to the Indian Subcontinent, many variations have been developed. For example, Falooda & Co offers ‘The Salted Sunset’, which contains “Salted caramel and butterscotch paired with vanilla ice cream, finished with a sweet-salty crunch” and ‘The Royal Heritage’, which contains “Rooh Afza [a syrup made with rose, flowers, fruits], and cooling herbs blended into chilled milk, layered with rich kulfi and finished with royal dust”, as well as the more traditional version.
Most faloodas contain seeds, mentioned above. Because of the presence of these particles, I do not enjoy falooda. But as this type of drink is only one of the many things on Falooda & Co’s menu, there is plenty of other choice for a ‘falooda-phobe’ like me. We ate two of the chaats on the menu, and followed them by espresso coffees, which were expertly made, and remarkably good value.
In addition to South Asian offerings, Falooda & Co serves non-Asian dishes including club sandwiches, fish and chips, full English breakfast (with lamb, not pork, bacon), and also lemon posset.
We noticed several food offerings in the glass-fronted refrigerated cabinets, and recognised a few of them, but there were several that looked unfamiliar. We asked the young lady, who was serving behind the counter and had made our coffee so well, about the items we could not identify. She replied:
“I am sorry I don’t know. I am unfamiliar with Asian food.”
We inquired about the restaurant’s cooks, and she told us that the food was prepared by a team that included both Indian and Pakistani cooks.
As she did not look Anglo-Saxon, but not typically South Asian, and knew little or nothing about the food she was serving, we asked her about her background.
She replied:
“I am Albanian.”
Because I have had a great interest in Albania and the Albanians, we began chatting. She was born in England, but her parents had migrated to Britain over 30 years ago.
UNLESS YOU WERE thirsty or hungry or in desperate need of a toilet, you would most probably drive past the Three Magpies pub without giving it a thought. The pub is near Heathrow Airport on the A4 road (the Bath Road), which links London to the west of England. However, this pub is of great historic interest.
Few people who land at Heathrow, London’s main airport, ever consider what was there before the airport was built. The Three Magpies is part of the history of that place.
The origin of the name ‘Heathrow’ is obscure, but Gordon Maxwell and other authors mentioned that Edward Ironside wrote in 1791 that the hamlet, Heath Row, had a very considerable fishery for lamperns, a small kind of lampreys, which were used as bait by the English and the Dutch in the cod and turbot fishery barges. Maxwell noted that all traces of this old-time industry had vanished. He also provided a first-hand description of the village after which Heathrow Airport is named:
“In Heath Row are some old cottages … which might be in the heart of Devonshire, for their antiquity, their picturesqueness, and lonely situation. Very few people ever see them, for so few go along this road …”
A detailed 19th century map shows minor a road heading south from a point on the Bath Road a few yards west of an inn or pub. It led straight to Heath Row Hall and then veered slightly southeast to Perrot’s Farm, located next to a bifurcation. This thoroughfare ran approximately along the same course as today’s Tunnel Road East, through which passengers arrive and depart from Terminals 2, and 3. The western branch of this bifurcation led west to the small hamlet of Heathrow (aka Heath Row). On an 1862 map, this consisted of several buildings each in their own spacious grounds. Terminals 2, and 3 and surrounding buildings stand on what was once the hamlet of Heathrow and its tiny neighbour Perry Oaks.
Nothing remains of Heath Row and Perry Oaks. They were demolished when Heathrow Airport began to be developed first as an RAF base during WW2, and then after that, a civil aerodrome. The inn I mentioned above – that on the Bath Road (the A4) – is the only survivor of the era before the airport began to be constructed. Established in the eighteenth century (before 1765), it was called ‘The Magpie’. Today, it is called ‘ TheThree Magpies’.
Unlike the hamlets that have long since disappeared, the Three Magpies continues to do business, However, its future is uncertain as a local historian explained in her detailed blog (wendytibbitts.info/the-…):
“Since the airport opened to the public in 1946 the area it covers has increased many times and the once remote pub is now surrounded by hotels. But it is a survivor. Even if the third runway gets built it is not scheduled for demolition, but will be stranded between the northern and third runways with no passing trade. There is every hope that the airport expansion plans will be quietly forgotten, but a more worrying prospect is the fact that Greene King are considering closing many of their pubs. It will be very sad if we lose this ancient pub which continues to be a welcome place for a drink and a good meal.”
I have driven past the pub several times (I have never been there when it is open), stopped to take photographs of it, but never been inside it. So, it seems that I should hurry back to try its fare before the new runway begins to be constructed.
As it is difficult to judge a book by its cover, here is a brief excerpt from my latest book “Road to Heaven – a passage through India”. It describes what we saw at one of the ruined gateways to Mandu in Madhya Pradesh.
Mandu is a huge hill fort at about 2400 feet above sea level, and 1200 feet above the surrounding plains. This irregularly shaped, undulating plateau extends from east to west for between approximately 3.7 and 5 miles, and from north to south, it measures 3 to 3.7 miles. Deep ravines cut into the steep, and in places vertiginous, cliff-like, slopes sweep almost vertically down to the plains below,
Here is the excerpt:
Our journey continued along a rough track that ended abruptly and without a warning sign at the edge of a high cliff that dropped down precipitously to the plain far below. The view from the cliff edge was spectacular. We could see a couple of lakes or reservoirs amongst the fields and trees, but the horizon was obscured by haze. To our left, there were the impressive, crenellated walls of the hill fort and one of its seven gateways. We had reached the fortress-like stone Tarapur Gate at the southwest corner of the plateau. A staircase leads up from it to a walkway that runs along the remains of the high walls. Near the bottom of this, an old stone roadway, now in a parlous condition, made two right-angle turns before passing beneath an arch and continuing as a rocky track that wound its way down to the plains below, clinging precariously to the steep slope of the drop at the edge of the plateau. Of this path, Yazdani wrote:
“…the fall of the hill beyond the outer arch of the gate is very precipitous, and although there are traces of a paved path descending to the plains, it is very difficult to believe that heavy artillery or chariots could be brought up this way, for the garrison could easily have crushed them by rolling down heavy stones. History, however, records that the Fort was invaded several times from this direction…”
While we were looking around, a straggling parade of farm animals, many cows and goats, made its way quietly through the gateway, and down the rocky track. They were accompanied by a couple of herders. The right-angle turns in the gateway were probably designed to make it easier for those guarding it to control entry to the hill fort. Apart from the farmers and their animals, we were the only people at the Tarapur Gate. It was in a part of Mandu which felt more remote than the rest of the hill fort.
After leaving the gateway, we drove through a hamlet where I noticed a man seated on the ground, weaving a cane basket. Further on, we passed women in saris carrying bundles of straw on their heads. We drove northwards through luscious countryside, passing many country folk chatting and working outside their simple homes. Then, after passing the Jami Masjid in Mandu village, we reached …
[ My book is available as a paperback from Amazon:
It is difficult to summarise a 269 page book succinctly. So, here is something that captures the essence of my latest book.
India is a countrywhose vibrant contemporary life mingles intimately with its age-old traditions. My new book “ROAD TO HEAVEN – A PASSAGE THROUGH INDIA” explores the intimate interweaving of past and present in the life of modern India by describing a journey I made through western, central and southern parts of the country.
In addition to relating our travel experiences – places we saw and their histories, whom we met, what we ate, and how we travelled, I have included other topics. These include accounts of places we (my wife and I) visited written by earlier visitors, and a detailed insider’s view of the formerly British colonial clubs of India. These clubs used to be out-of-bounds to Indians, but since the country became independent, they are now part of the rich fabric of Indian social life.
And as for the Road to Heaven, this really exists, and I have described my journeys along it.
Recently. I had lunch with some friends at an elegant Polish club in London’s South Kensington.
Immediately opposite the Imperial College Business School, one of the terraced houses on Exhibition Road (number 55) is the home of Ognisko, the Polish Hearth Club. The word ‘ogniszko., which means ‘hearth’, is related to the Latin word ‘ignis’ and the Sanskrit word ‘agni’, and both mean ‘fire’.
The building can be recognised by the plaque affixed to it, which commemorates the 1956 Hungarian Revolution. Contained in a house constructed in about 1870, the club was founded in 1939. Its website, www.ogniskopolskie.org.uk , explained that the organisation is:
“…a Members’ Club and an important part of Polish Social and Cultural life in London … Founded with the combined initiative of the British and Polish Governments, it was inaugurated by HRH The Duke of Kent in 1940 … It became the hub of Polish social and cultural life, with a good restaurant, meeting rooms, a theatre and a ballroom. It was supported by Officers, along with their families and friends together with a prospering theatrical and literary community. Leading figures in Polish cultural society, along with senior Military figures were frequently to be seen in the Club. After the War it continued to meet the needs of the Polish community, their friends and supporters, as it still does today…”
As for its early history, the website related:
“In order to have a centre where the Free Poles would feel at home a house was rented for £300 p.a. in December 1939 from Sir Frank Newnes who held the leasehold on 55 Prince’s Gate. The Polish House was in effect the intellectual hub for Poles arriving in London whether as civilians, enlisted, diplomats or politicians.”
In 1978, the Club bought the freehold of its home from the University of London. The restaurant, which I have visited several times, serves Polish food in an elegant dining room. We ate our lunch on a covered, air-conditioned terrace, part of the garden behind the clubhouse. The club provides an enjoyable Polish ‘fine dining’ experience. However, although the food is good, it is much better at the less pretentious Café Maja, part of POSK (the Polish Cultural Centre) in Hammersmith.
At the entrance, there is a bust of the composer Chopin. Near it, on the walls of the lobby, there are paintings and photographs. And in the basement, there are several beautiful old framed posters, each one advertising a tourist destination in Poland.
If you want to experience the elegance of pre-WW2 Poland, a visit to Ognisko will not disappoint.
TRAGICALLY, my friend the art historian and author, Michael, died twelve years ago. I had known him since 1964, when the film “Goldfinger” was released in the UK. By a strange coincidence he was born on the same day in October as my mother, and his mother was born on the same day in May as I was. He studied art history at London’s Courtauld Institute, where he also completed his doctorate. His doctoral supervisor was the Director of the Courtauld, the art historian and Keeper of the Queen’s Pictures, Sir Anthony Blunt (1907-1983), who was eventually unmasked as a Soviet Russian agent. When Michael was studying at the Courtauld, it was housed in Home House on London’s Portman Square. I never managed to visit Michael there, but since his demise, I have been there three times.
Originally, Home House was built for Elizabeth, Countess of Home (c1703-1784), a Jamaican born heiress. The edifice, which was completed during her lifetime, was designed by the famous architect Robert Adam (1728-1782). He is famed for having designed not only buildings, but also their interior décor and furniture as well as many small details (e.g., door handles). After a series of owners, Home House was leased in 1926 by the industrialist and art collector Samuel Courtauld (1876-1947) to house his then growing art collection. In 1931, following his wife’s death, he gave Home House to the then young Courtauld Institute of Art, which he helped to found.
The Institute remained in Home House until it shifted to its current home, Somerset House, in 1989. Home House stayed unoccupied until 1998, when it was extensively and beautifully restored and became a private members’ social club, called, unsurprisingly, Home House.
Of all the Adam designed structures I have visited, and these include Kenwood House, Osterley Park, Kedleston Hall, Pountney Bridge, The Adelphi Buildings, and Lutin Hoo, the restored Home House has the best set of Adam designed interiors I have seen. Today, unless you are a member of the club or a member’s guest, it is not otherwise possible to enter this gorgeous mansion; And it was an honour that a friend of ours, a member of the club, has invited us there on several occasions.
After our most recent visit to Home House, I could not help wonderin whether its present reincarnation would have met with my friend Michael’s approval. I have a sneaking feeling that he would have enjoyed what it has become.
Over the centuries, there have been many notable female leaders. These include Hatshepsut, Cleopatra, Boadicea (Boudica), Joan of Arc, Elizabeth I, Catherine the Great, Queen Victoria, the Rani of Jhansi, and Indira Gandhi … to name but a few.
During a recent trip to Madhya Pradesh, a state in Central India, we stayed in the small town called Maheshwar, which had a famous resident, a queen called Ahilyabai. I must admit I had never heard of her until we visited the town, and this is not good because she was at least as remarkable as, if not more amazing than any of the women I listed above.
Ahilyabai was born in 1725 in the village of Chaundi, now in Maharashtra. Her father, Mankoji Sindhia (Shinde), a scion of the Dhangar family, was the Patil (village headman). Although it was at a time when women were not allowed to go to school, Ahilyabai’s father taught her to read and write. When the Maratha ruler of Malwa (now part of Madhya Pradesh), Malhar Rao Holkar (lived 1693-1766), was travelling to Pune in 1733, he spotted Ahilyabai and was so impressed by her that he arranged for her to be married to his 10-year-old son Khanderao Holkar (1723-1754). Her husband, who admired Ahilyabai, fought in many battles, and was killed at the Fort of Khumber in 1754. As was the tradition of those times, Ahilyabai wanted to commit sati by throwing herself on Khanderao’s flaming funeral pyre, but Malhar Rao stopped her.
From 1754 onwards, he trained her in military matters and administrative skills. Soon, she became competent in both, and successfully carried out several military operations against enemies of the Holkars. When Mahar Rao died, his successor was Ahilyabai’s 21-year-old son, Male Rao Holkar (1745-1767), who went insane, and died a year after he came to the throne. The writer, John Malcolm (1769-1833), who lived in India between 1783 and 1831 and knew people close to the Holkars, and wrote about them in his “Memoir Of Central India Including Malwa Vol.1” (published in 1824) included descriptions of Male Rao’s madness, such as:
“It was a common usage with him to place scorpions in clothes and slippers that he gave them; he also put these venomous reptiles in pots filled with rupees, which he invited the holy mendicants to take; and, when their eager cupidity caused them to be stung, his joy was as excessive …”
Unwilling to adopt an heir, Ahilyabai wrote to the Peshwa (senior official of the Marathas), petitioning him to appoint her as ruler of Malwa. He sent her a letter, appointing her. Immediately after this, she appointed Tukoji Holkar (1723-1797), the great nephew of her father-in-law, Mahar Rao, as commander of her army and to manage Malwa’s military affairs. This allowed her to concentrate on administering Malwa and other Holkar estates. Until her death, Ahilyabai and Tukoji worked together harmoniously. After she died, he became the ruler of Malwa, and was known as Tukoji Rao I Holkar. John Malcom met people who remembered Ahilyabai, and they told him she was a good ruler:
“Her first principle of government appears to have been moderate assessment, and an almost sacred respect for the native rights of village officers and proprietors of lands. She heard every complaint in person; and although she continually referred causes to courts of equity and arbitration, and to her ministers, for settlement, she was always accessible: and so strong was her sense of duty, on all points connected with the distribution of justice, that she is represented as not only patient, but unwearied in the investigation of the most insignificant causes, when appeals were made to her decision.”
During her reign, Ahilyabai did much to make Indore into a prosperous and beautiful city, but shifted her capital to Maheshwar. She did much work to improve the roads and forts in Malwa, as well as making many religious endowments (including mandirs, dharamshalas, tanks, bathing ghats, etc) in the kingdom. A man, Baramul Dada, who knew Ahilyabai well, related to Malcolm that:
“… she rose one hour before daybreak to say her morning prayers, and perform the customary ceremonies. She then heard the sacred volumes of her faith read for a fixed period, distributed alms, and gave food, in person, to a number of Brahmins. Her own breakfast was then brought, which was always of vegetable diet; for, although the rules of her tribe did not require it, she had forsworn animal food. After breakfast she again went to prayers, and then took a short repose; after rising from which, and dressing herself, she went about two o’clock to her Durbar, or court, where she usually remained till six in the evening; and when two or three hours had been devoted to religious exercises and a frugal repast, business recommenced about nine o’clock, and continued until eleven, at which hour she retired to rest.”
Her good works in connection with her religion extended well beyond the boundaries of Malwa. Using inherited Holkar money, rather than public funds, she ordered the construction of religious edifices in places including Varanasi, Kashi, Gaya, Somnath, Ayodhya, Mathura, Hardwar, Kanchi, Avanti, Dwarka, Badrinarayan, Rameshwar and Jaganathpuri. Ahilyabai. After shifting her capital to Maheshwar, she did much to improve the place.
During her life as queen and after her death, Ahilyabai’s reputation was legendary, and remains so. In what was once Malwa (and elsewhere), she is regarded as a saint. It is worth noting that Ahilyabai was not the only female Maratha ruler. Earlier, Tarabai Bhonsle (1675-1751) was the regent of the Maratha Empire from 1700 until 1708. Undoubtedly,
Ahilyabai was one of the most remarkable women in India’s long history. Indore’s airport, where we landed, is now named after her. To digress slightly, when we were in Bombay, we saw a statue of her – a bust – close to the city’s busy Churchgate train station. It is in a prominent place, but market stalls and vegetation around it make it difficult to view her properly.
LONDON IS NOT one the world’s cheapest places for eating out. It is not difficult to spend a great deal of money on a meal that is far from satisfactory, and many visitors to London find that this is the case. I am a Londoner. I want to share a few places with you that offer good food at prices that are very reasonable by London standards. Some of them serve alcohol, which invariably will hike up the final cost of a meal. All of them have been serving customers for many years, but given the economic situation in the UK, one can never be sure for how much longer they will remain in business. Having warned you about this, here is my list, which was up to date when I wrote this in August 2026.
Beigel Bake (159 Brick Lane, London E1 6SB). Open 24 hours a day, this is no ordinary bakery. It does sell delicious breads and pastries, but this is not what makes it special. There is usually a long queue of customers waiting to order generously filled beigels. The fillings include smoked salmon, chopped herring, and freshly made salt beef. The salt beef is some of the best I have ever eaten, and when served with pickled gherkins and strong English mustard, as it is at Beigel Bake, it is superb. PS: near Beigel Bake, there is another place, Beigel Shop, which I cannot recommend.
Lisboa Patisserie (57 Golborne Road, London W10 5NR). With a mural of Azulejo tiling, this Portuguese establishment serves good coffee at below average prices. It also has a wide range of sweet pastries, as well as the famous ‘pastel de nata’. There are many savoury snacks available including a range of croquettes (meat, prawn, salted cod) and sandwiches (some of the fillings include Portuguese smoked ham, pork escalopes, and chicken escalopes). Everything is reasonably priced in this tiny Portuguese enclave. And facing it across the road, is the Lisboa Delicatessen, where a wonderful range of foods from Portugal can be purchased.
Falafel King (95 Golborne Road, London W10 5NL). Not far from Lisboa Patisserie, this outlet serves delicious wraps containing freshly made falafels.
Cafe Maja (238-246 King Street, London W6 0RF). Located at the western end of POSK, the Polish cultural centre in Hammersmith, this restaurant is one of my favourites. It serves superbly prepared Polish dishes at very acceptable prices. Whether you want a simple meal of beautiful borscht, or a hearty meal including meat, vegetables, and salads, you will not be disappointed. Polish food is often thought to be heavy, but what is served at this place is delicious, filling, but made with a delicate touch. And if you want desserts, there is always a selection of tempting Polish cakes and pastries. This place is well worth a detour.
Sagar (37 Panton Street, Leicester Square, London SW1Y 4EA). This vegetarian restaurant serves very acceptable, reasonably priced South Indian fare in a pleasant, modern dining room. You can order chaats, dosas, idlis, vadas, rasam, thalis, dal, and more. Although much more costly than in India, these authentic tasting dishes are not highly priced by London standards, And as a bonus, this place is in the heart of the West End, near Leicester Square.
Mani’s (12 Perrin’s Ct, London NW3 1QS). This very popular eatery (avoid on weekends as it gets too busy) in Hampstead village caters for a wide range of tastes, and does it well. You can have everything from cooked breakfasts, sandwiches, wraps, and salads to wholesome lunch dishes. I particularly enjoy their Caesar Salad topped with grilled chicken. The menu is too vast for me to describe everything that is available at what I consider to be the best place to eat in Hampstead.
Raavi Kebab (125 Drummond Street, London NW1 2HL). This unpretentious, hardly decorated restaurant is a place for carnivores! Raavi’s serves North Indian dishes. Their biryani is great as is the fried fish (lightly dusted with turmeric and chilli powder before being cooked). At the front of the restaurant there is a charcoal grill. The kebabs (chicken, lamb, and seekh) prepared on the grill are excellent. Other more complicated dishes are available, but those I have mentioned are my favourites.
Caphe House (114 Bermondsey Street, London SE1 3TX). This charming place in trendy Bermondsey Street serves Vietnamese dishes, all of which are tasty, refreshing, and enjoyable. Customers can customise their pho, rice, and noodle dishes, making them vegetarian or otherwise. Banh mi baguettes. Summer rolls, and other Vietnamese food items are also available. To round off the meal, try a Vietnamese coffee. And if you are not worried about calories, go for the egg coffee, which tastes a bit like Italian zabaglione.
Rye Lane Market (48 Rye Lane, London SE15 5BY). This amazing place in South London contains a food court with a difference. As the market’s website (https://ryelanemarket.com/food) explained: “The food hall brings together independent kitchens serving Mexican, Peruvian, Caribbean, Indian, Colombian and other cuisines, plus desserts, juice bars and specialty coffee.” In addition to the Carribean and Latin American food stalls, there are several serving dishes typical of various African cuisines. My favourite stall is the Colombian kitchen, where mouthwatering dishes are prepared by a husband and wife team while you wait. On weekday lunchtimes, most of their quite substantial, tasty dishes are served at a special reduced price. It is well worth making a special expedition to this lovely market and its wonderful food court, which unlike so many other food courts, is completely devoid of branches of fast food chains.
Up to this point, I have been recommending places for people who want to eat good food without spending a fortune. The next few places are slightly more expensive, but given their high quality are good value for money.
Mangal 1 (10 Arcola Street, London E8 2DN). London is full of Turkish restaurants, but Mangal 1 is, in my opinion, outstanding. Their meats (lamb and chicken) grilled on a charcoal filled ocakbasi are top class. I particularly enjoy their lokma (rolled lamb fillet), Adana kebab, yogurtlu Adana, and ciger (liver), apart from the yogurtlu dishes, the others are served with generous amounts of mixed salad. One of the many starter dishes which I like is Patlican Salata, which contains grilled aubergines and peppers. But be warned that if you indulge on starters. You might find it difficult to finish the main courses, and it is these that are the ‘stars’ of the meal.
Sporting Club De Londres (27 Elkstone Road, London W10 5NT). From the outside, this place looks like a large garage or warehouse. Step inside, and you will feel as if you have been transported from London to Madeira. But enter only if you have a good appetite because the superbly cooked Portuguese dishes served here are very generous. Everything is good on the menu, from seafood to meat dishes. It is not ultra cheap, but it is very good value, and great fun eating at this haunt of London’s Portuguese community.
Jia (1 Harrington Road, South Kensington, London SW7 3ES). Conveniently close to the South Kensington museums, this Chinese restaurant serves Sichuan dishes. It is popular with Chinese students studying nearby at Imperial College, because the food served at Jia is aimed at the Chinese customers rather than the many tourists who visit the area. For a real treat, order one of the hotpots, which contain enough food for two. Jia is delightfully different from many other (mainly Cantonese) Chinese restaurants in London.
Four Seasons (12 Gerrard Street, W1D 5PR). Located in London’s Chinatown, this is one of many Cantonese restaurants in the area, but one where I have always eaten well. This restaurant is one of several members of a group of Four Seasons restaurants. All of them are noted for the excellence of their roast duck. Although there are many dishes to choose from, my favourite is House Special Fried Noodles. Every time I have ordered it, it has arrived with a different array of seafood and meats. Many other dishes on the menu are worth ordering.
Ciao Bella (86-90 Lamb’s Conduit Street, London WC1N 3LZ). Londo is flooded with restaurants claiming to serve Italian food. Some do it badly, and a minority do it well. Only recently, I ate at Ciao Bella near Russell Square, and the food was really good. Both the pasta and meat dishes would have been quite acceptable had they been served in a trattoria in Italy frequented by locals who know their food. Both my wife and I have spent much time in Italy, and can distinguish between Italian food aimed at foreigners and that which has been prepared for discerning Italian diners. What we ate at Ciao Bella was not only up to the mark, but also not outrageously priced.
Hafez (5 Hereford Road, London W2 4AB). This is a place to see as well as to dine at. This Persian restaurant has the most eccentric interior décor of any restaurant I know. The food served from its extensive menu is quite satisfactory, but not as amazing as the decoration of the room in which you consume it.
Asakusa (265 Eversholt Street, London NW1 1BA). Not far from the popular Camden Market, this quaint Japanese restaurant serves excellent freshly prepared food. Whereas there are many chains serving Japanese food (e.g., Itsu and Wasabi) at supposedly budget prices, they do not provide great quality for the prices they charge. In contrast, Asakusa does give you great quality, and therefore good value for money.
The Champion (1 Wellington Terrace, London W2 4LW). I have travelled all over England in search of a good traditional Sunday roast lunch, and have usually been disappointed. The Champion pub, which is not far from where I live, serves a superb Sunday lunch. The deal is that one orders a platter to be shared by two (hungry) people. This platter contains three expertly roasted, tasty chunks of meat (e.g., lamb, beef, chicken, or pork). The meat is accompanied by a variety of vegetables and the traditional Yorkshire Puddings. And this superb offering is no more costly than the many mediocre Sunday roasts I have eaten elsewhere. Although the Sunday roasts are wonderful at The Champion, I cannot recommend other things I have eaten there.
So, there you have it. You can follow my suggestions or not. I may have omitted many other great places, but those above are ones I know. Once again, I should emphasise that things can change, but I hope that those I have written about neither disappear nor change for the worse.
THE SOAS GALLERY in London’s Bloomsbury is holding an exhibition of traditional textiles from Afghanistan until 19 September 2026. The embroidered items in the show have been lent by the Kiran Thakar Collection.
Some pieces are silk and others wool. Interestingly, there were items that incorporated small mirrors such as also can be found in embroidery in Kachchh (Kutch, western India). At least two exhibits were woven using the ikat technique, also found in Gujarat.
The small, well displayed exhibition is a ‘must’ for anyone interested in Asian textiles, and a joy for those who enjoy beautifully prepared handicrafts.
I HAVE JUST VISITED London’s Wallace Collection to view a small exhibition called “The Wallace Collection at War”. It continues until 25 October 2026. Small though it is, it contains several artefacts that resonate with the research I did when writing my book about north London’s Hampstead district.
During WW2, the valuable artworks that comprised the Wallace Collection were removed from their home, Hertford House on Manchester Square, and hidden in caves and cellars so that they would neither be damaged by bombing nor found by the enemy should they have managed to invade the UK.
In 1942, in order to raise money to send medical equipment and clothing to Soviet Russia, Lady Clementine Churchill (Sir Winston’s wife) organised the “Artists Aid Russia” exhibition, which was held in the then empty Hertford House. Some of the exhibition stands and other display arrangements were designed by the architect Erno Goldfinger, whose creations include Trellick Tower in North Kensington, and his own residence in Hampstead. For five years, I practised dentistry in the shadow of Trellick Tower. I have also visited his Hampstead home several times.
The 1942 exhibition included 900 works by living artists. A few of these works are currently on display in Hertford House. They include artworks by John Skeaping. Carel Weight, Ethel Léontine Gabain, and Charles Murray. There is also a poster by Henri Kay Henrion. He was married to the artist Daphne Hardy Henrion. One of their two sons went to the same school as I did in the 1960s. For a while they lived in Hampstead.
The “Artists Aid Russia” exhibition was launched in late 1942 by Soviet Ambassador Ivan Maisky (1884-1975) and his wife Agniya. The first time I encountered his name was while writing my book about Hampstead. In “Architect Errant”, the autobiography of the architect Sir Bertram Clough Williams-Ellis (1883-1978), he wrote of the artist George Romney’s former home, where he resided:
“It was a splendid house for large parties and we gave a lot of them – dances every so often, a show by Ballet Rambert … We also gave a party to meet the Russian Ambassador, M[onsieur]. Maisky, who made a speech from the gallery balcony …”
As part of my research, I acquired a copy of “The Maisky Diaries” (edited by Gabriel Gorodetsky). Although there is no mention of the visit to Hampstead, there is much which is relevant to one of the items in the current exhibition at Hertford House. This artefact is an excellent bronze sculpture depicting Maisky’s head. It was made in 1941 by the renowned artist Jacob Epstein (1880-1959). The diaries contain much about this work of art and its execution.
On 14 February 1941, Maisky wrote:
“Jacob Epstein has convinced me to permit him to make my bust. I warned the sculptor that the USSR is a country of genuine democracy, so Soviet ambassadors are not able to pay artists of the capitalist world the fees they are accustomed to. Epstein was insistent …”
Maisky was intrigued by the creative process, which required at least six sittings. He described how Epstein gradually formed his head out of grey clay. He wrote:
“Let’s see what happens next. I’ll have five or six sittings in all. With such original artists as Epstein, you never know what will come out in the end – you yourself or a monster.”
The ambassador described the artist’s studio at 18 Hyde Park Gate:
“A large bright room with two enormous windows … Astonishing artistic chaos. Scattered over tables, chairs, and benches and the floor are statues, heads, arms, legs and other parts of the human body in clay and plaster of Paris … The figure of the sculptor moves quickly and deftly amidst the vast chaos. His baggy grey trousers are stained with clay and plaster of Paris. Epstein is quite a charming man …”
Eventually, the bust was completed.
While he was in London, Maisky became very popular. As Gorodetsky noted at the end of the extracts from Maisky’s diaries:
“Neither Stalin nor Molotov could watch with equanimity the popular cult of Maisky in London, which reached dimensions second only to the cult of Stalin himself … While flattered by the cult evolving around him, Maisky was anxious to keep it on the back burner. He was quick to turn down an invitation by the sculptor Epstein to attend the private viewing of his works at Leicester Galleries …”
Despite the risk of trouble from Stalin in Russia, Maisky sat for a portrait by Oskar Kokoschka. He sat for this portrait shortly before he was recalled to the USSR in July 1943. This picture is now in the Tate Gallery’s collection.
As you can see, the small exhibition at the Wallace Collection proved to be of great interest, especially as so many of the exhibits overlapped with things that have interested me in the past.
yamey 