The restaurant critic, journalist and author on his inherited love of stout, fond memories of teenage skating and a soft spot for a famously rude restaurant
voices in food.
Restaurants are stories in themselves. I love that special moment of discovery when I’ve had a fantastic meal, experienced something I’d never seen before, am inspired by something completely unfamiliar. Food disarms people in a lovely way.
I’m a lapsed skateboarder. Apart from it being a fun and occasionally dangerous experience, skating was important to me as a teenager because it was a gateway to music, art, fashion, films and bands – all these subcultures I didn’t know about in my suburban British-Nigerian life.
There’s a Chinese restaurant in London’s Soho, called Wong Kei, that I really like. It has its own style – it would be almost disappointing if you went and they were overly nice to you! But I love that brusque style. My favourite dish at this time of year is the softest beef brisket over a mound of rice – like a warm blanket.
Food is wordless communication.
A way to be creative, clever or reference culture without speaking. I love being a conduit for that, trying to find the words so people can share the experience, almost taste the food.
White Teeth by Zadie Smith was a formative read for me.
And Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead floored me. I love graphic novels, and recently read Alison by Lizzy Stewart, about a woman in the art world of the Sixties – it’s beautiful, deftly done and affecting. I had a short story published a while back called
