It is easy to eat well in London if one has lots of dosh.
It is even easier to come away from an eating establishment feeling either ripped off or having had to make do with sub-standard food of dubious origins and even more dubious cooking techniques.
If you know where to go, this wonderful cosmopolitan city offers an incredible variety of fantastic foods influenced by every country around the globe.
DonQui is a bit of a francophile and if push comes to shove, he has to admit that French food and style are almost always his first choices. There are plenty of good French restaurants in London, partly down to the hundreds of thousands of Frenchmen and women who have made London their home in recent times. This is not a new phenomenon. French exiles came to London in their hundreds of thousands at the time of the Huguenot exodus in the 17th century. Kettners in Soho (which sadly closed earlier this year after 149 years) was founded by Napoleon III’s chef in the 1800s while the French House, just around the corner, was the unofficial headquarters of de Gaulle and the French resistance during the Second World War.
For a simple, high quality, meal in the west end of London, Prix Fixe is DonQui’s first choice. On Dean Street in the heart of Soho it offers French brasserie style food and ambiance at very reasonable prices. The pre-7pm menu has 2 courses for just over £10 while the later fixed menu has 3 courses for £25. DonQui has eaten here many times in the past and tonight he is delighted to find that the quality and ambiance remains as good as ever.
Being a notorious gourmand, DonQui opts to shell out the £3 supplement for the foie gras terrine starter and he feels that it is worth every extra penny.
Another supplement (£6 this time) lands him with a main course of entrecôte steak frites. Ordered medium rare the steak is beautifully seared on the outside while remaining pink and juicy in the middle. The frites are proper French fries — thin and wonderfully crisp while still soft on the inside. DonQui’s only complaint (and this is his finicky taste buds rather than a mistake in the kitchen) is the mustard dressing on the lovely green salad. Unfortunately DonQui has a near allergic reaction to mustard.
Washed down with an excellent glass of Côtes du Rhône and finished off with an adffogato (an Italian classic rather than a French one) DonQui once again enjoys a wonderful meal in a relaxing atmosphere while watching the streets of Soho come to life as night falls.
When it comes time to pay the bill, DonQui feels that he has had great value for money. He will come again.
Having dealt with one huge pile of beans he goes back up to the allotment a few days later and this is what he comes back with. The runner beans are starting to produce as are the purple French beans. The purple beans turn green when cooked and taste no different from the green ones.
The beans and kale are coming along nicely while the soft fruits are better than ever. Before he went away the strawberries produced an excellent crop. Now it is the time for the gooseberries and raspberries.
Peel, core and chop the apples – throw them into a saucepan with a squeeze of lemon juice to stop them browning. Stir in the sugar and cook gently, covered, until the apple begins to soften.
There, just around a corner and tucked into a most inviting courtyard, he stumbles upon the delightful 
Better than your average tapas, it is a simple and flavoursome dish which leaves DonQui feeling utterly satisfied. And at €7 it is a bargain.
The first is to read up in advance; make lists, notes and careful plans; print off maps; dog-ear travel guides; and pre-book as much as you can. This will help to maximise every precious minute and make it possible to cram in all sorts of incredibly interesting things.
He is rather pleased with his hotel 
The Plaza Santa Bárbara is strewn with chairs and tables so DonQui thinks it should be quite easy to find a spot to settle in. Not so! Every table is already full by 7pm. Watching the natives he surmises that the trick is to circle around like a vulture over a dying animal and then swoop as soon as someone gets up. His first attempt at this fails. He is too polite and waits for the previous patrons to completely move away. This gives an opening for a more aggressive vulture to swoop in first. His second attempt is much more successful. Table secured, DonQui remains glued to it sipping his beer, reading a book and watching the world go by.
By 9pm the restaurants are opening so DonQui goes off exploring for a likely place. Just around the corner by Alonso Martinez Metro station is the 
‘This will do very nicely,’ DonQui thinks so he trots down the steps and settles himself. The atmosphere is laid back and friendly — the food is quite excellent.
A lovely meal of rosemary lamp chops and fried potatoes washed down by a glass of red wine and accompanied by rustic bread and a sample of various olive oils really hits the spot.
The museum has a very good collection, including exhibits from the Visigoths which are of particular interest to DonQui as his alter ego, Simon MacDowall, is writing a book about them.
He thinks the strawberries are coming along nicely and he looks forward to the crop. His reward is, however, not limited to thoughts of good fresh fruit and vegetables to come. There is great therapeutic satisfaction to be had digging around in the dirt.
Especially when a fearless, friendly blackbird comes along to help and steal a few worms.
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