London

Is it really a crime to stare?

From our UK edition

‘A sky full of stars and he was staring at her’ is a love poem by a dead Roman but on the London Underground, all a man will find if he looks skyward is a TFL advert warning him if he stares at me in an Attican fashion I’m to call the police. ‘Staring’ (Sadiq Khan’s bright red public safety warning reads – with ominous eyeballs popping out of the ‘a’ and the ‘g’) that may be construed as ‘intense’ and of ‘sexual nature’ is now ‘sexual harassment’ and ‘not tolerated’. Should anyone ‘see it or experience it’ they are to text the British Transport Police or dial an 0800 sexual harassment hotline if they want to remain anonymous.

Covid has changed London for the better

From our UK edition

For some it was the taped-off park benches, or the sight of police officers handing out fixed penalty notices to sunbathers. For others it was the sheer numbers of deaths being reported in inner boroughs. London in the spring of 2020 was definitely not the place to be. As with other world cities, it faced what seemed an existential crisis. The streets quickly drained of people, and those who could fled to second homes in the country. The voracity with which Covid-19 spread sparked a fear of living at high densities. Pundits in Britain and America quickly proclaimed the death of cities. The belief was that remote-working had freed people from the constraint of living close to the office and they would now opt for quieter lives in smaller towns and suburbs.

The rise of the Busy People

I have a friend who’s always very busy. So busy that we rarely see each other. But I know that she’s very busy because when we talk on the phone and I ask “How are you?” she always says the same thing: “Busy. Very busy.” She is one of the Busy People. Busy people work very long hours and have important meetings, conferences, trips and appointments to attend to. She belongs to that breed of Busy People — fortunately a minority — who love to tell you how busy they are. I, on the other hand, am one of the Lazy People. We hardly work at all. We don’t have meetings or conference calls; we have long lunches and short naps. The only important meeting we ever take is with our oral hygienist or therapist.

busy

The best lamb in London: Blacklock reviewed

From our UK edition

Blacklock is the fourth restaurant of that name – there are others in Soho, Shoreditch and the City of London. It sits in a former royal coach-makers in an alley near the Garrick Club under signage that says ‘Chop’. We descend to a cavern. The walls are exposed brick, the floors are dark wood, and the ceiling hangs over exposed pipework. There is a map of a more ancient and more interesting London on the wall, from the days in which chop houses were as common as raw sewage, or horses. It’s fiercely brown; committed to brown; washed with brown: chairs, tables, light fittings, food. There are tables of men looking expansive like Italian rugby fans. They love Blacklock for its brownness, its simplicity and its blood.

Britain’s money laundering scandal goes back a long way

From our UK edition

The war in Ukraine has turned a lot of people’s attention to oligarchs in the UK. How did these guys all end up in London, seemingly owning half of Belgravia? In Butler to the World, Oliver Bullough offers an answer. I read his earlier work Moneyland slack-jawed at the blatant – and mundane – techniques employed to register UK Ltd companies through frontmen and use them to launder money. I thought the middle men would be glamorous and slick, not running a website from an office above a chip shop. In this work Bullough looks at the bigger picture: the way Britain became the destination of choice for so many who don’t want questions asked about their wealth.

Food ruined by an existential crisis: Fallow reviewed

From our UK edition

I was going to be jolly this week, for variety and denial, but I changed my mind. Instead, I wonder if, when Vladimir Putin – insert your own nickname, mine is unprintable – talks about the weakness of western civilisation (I paraphrase) and, therefore, our unwillingness to resist tyranny in the shape of a balding paranoiac unwisely given Botox by a beautician who lied to him because everyone lies to him, he means Fallow, which is a new restaurant in St James’s. I wonder if Putin has been to Fallow wearing a prosthetic head and, if so, did he do the soft launch or the hard one? Did he steal more hair? He has stolen so much money from Russia he could afford a room full of prosthetic heads each with their own hair. (You can buy hair on racks at wedding shows.

I’ve found a little Eden in London

From our UK edition

I’m not one of life’s early risers but an exception had to be made on Wednesday last week. In an event organised by Lord Chadlington (Peter Selwyn Gummer), Michael Gove was talking about ‘levelling up’ to an invited audience at the Corinthia hotel in London. This was a breakfast meeting, doors open at 7.45, and I wanted to hear Mr Gove, a politician I know and admire. So I was there. Gove was impressive. But in the end neither he nor the breakfast were what I’ll always remember about that morning. Around nine o’clock we tipped out on to the pavements by Embankment Tube station. It was a glorious morning, fresh and clear in the winter sunshine.

A victim of its own mythology: Langan’s Brasserie reviewed

From our UK edition

Langan’s, a brasserie off Piccadilly with curling orange neon signage calling its name, is under new management after it fell into administration in 2020. It is a famous brasserie — London’s version of La Coupole — once owned by Michael Caine, a famous actor, and Peter Langan, a famous drunk, who would crawl across the floor and bite customers’ ankles and who once put out a kitchen fire with champagne. It opened in 1976 on the site of Le Coq d’Or and was treated by the diary columns as a person in itself, as famous as Annabel’s, Peppermint Park and the Ritz Hotel. Lucian Freud and David Hockney and Princess Margaret came here.

Dick’s departure is Sadiq Khan’s victory

From our UK edition

Sadiq Khan forced Cressida Dick out of her job as Metropolitan Police chief. Both made that very clear this evening, with Dick saying 'the mayor no longer has sufficient confidence in my leadership to continue', while Khan said he was 'not satisfied with the Commissioner's response' to his ultimatum for changing the Met's culture of misogyny, racism, homophobia and bullying. The Met is clearly an institutional basket case The Mayor of London has played a political blinder on this. Unlike Home Secretary Priti Patel, who has the ultimate authority on the appointment — and exit — of the Commissioner, he has been quick to respond to last week's report which revealed appalling messages exchanged by some officers at the Charing Cross station.

Pass on Piggy’s, head to Hide: central London breakfasts reviewed

From our UK edition

The centre could not hold, at least for Piggy’s. The drama of being the only greasy spoon in the West End — in Air Street, of all places — was too much, and it swelled, panicked, and fell apart. Yesterday I ate a mean sliver of almost cold bacon inside hard white supermarket bread. The butter had fled, possibly in the night, possibly with its luggage. There is a good, cheap bacon sandwich — I would argue the cheap bacon sandwich is the only good bacon sandwich — but it must have soft bread, crispy bacon, and butter as plentiful as a lover’s heart. This wasn’t it.

London’s best Japanese bars

From our UK edition

Japan’s influence on the way we drink cannot be overstated. An entrenched culture of artisanship and craft combined with a love of the good life has made Japan a force to be reckoned with in the noble field of boozing. As a fellow island nation with a similar appreciation for the hard stuff, we Brits have taken a serious interest in how our Japanese cousins get their drink on. In London today, traditional fare like sake and shochu, as well as finely honed interpretations of single malt and gin, feature prominently on our cocktails lists. There’s never been a better time to drink Japanese-style in the city and these are some of the best places to do it.

Sadiq’s £1.5 million damp squib

From our UK edition

London politicians are no strangers to seeing fireworks. But this year's annual New Year's Eve shindig was a somewhat more muted affair than usual, after mayor Sadiq Khan ordered the last-minute cancellation of events in central London in response to a surge in the Omicron variant, despite the NYE celebrations being, er, almost entirely outdoors.  Those who wished to see the fireworks instead had to make do with watching the BBC's coverage at home, featuring a dreadful, trite opening monologue over an army of drones spelling out the letters 'NHS'.

A modern Medea: Iron Curtain, by Vesna Goldsworthy, reviewed

From our UK edition

Vesna Goldsworthy’s finely wrought third novel explodes into life early on with a shocking scene in which Misha — the boyfriend of our protagonist, Milena Urbanska — returns from a short, tough spell of military service, initiates a game of Russian roulette (‘the only Russian thing I could face right now’) and blows his brains out. It is 1981. Misha and Milena are children of the political elite in an unnamed capital city in the Eastern Bloc. As such, they are afforded privileges their compatriots lack: palatial homes, preferential treatment, western luxuries as seemingly innocuous as cans of Bitter Lemon from Italy and imported tampons, instead of ‘the scratchy home-produced sausages of grey cotton waste encased in a flimsy net that...

The London property hotspots most likely to gain value

From our UK edition

The preponderance of publicity over the last 24 months exhorting Londoners to abandon ship has left some areas of the capital looking like relative bargains or at least lagging behind widely hyped price rises elsewhere in the UK. Indeed, the average property price in Cambridge is now higher than that of the capital. Anecdotally, the stress of moving under duress has meant a significant number of those recently ‘lost’ have now returned to areas like Wandsworth, Hammersmith and Fulham. Many buyers have rented for a time in order to attempt a rural purchase before deciding to return. According to data from propertymark, there were an average of 29 buyers for every available property in December, meaning many house searches no doubt ended in vain.

The best schnitzel in London: Schnitzel Forever reviewed

From our UK edition

It is a truism that there is never enough schnitzel (‘slice’, German); or, rather, schnitzel does not get the attention it deserves. Restaurants do serve it, of course. Fischer’s does a fine Wiener schnitzel, as part of its riotous pre-war Vienna tribute act, and elderly people, I am told, queue for it while wearing slankets. Brasseries sell it often: the perhaps unconscious desire to re-enact the meals of the Weimar Republic is one of the stranger things of the age. The Coffee Cup in Hampstead serves it with a jaunty side order of spaghetti pomodoro. But the (chicken) schnitzel has never had the stardust of the less interesting but more widely beloved hamburger; perhaps it is because cows are bigger.

The rise of the London pied à terre

From our UK edition

There’s nothing new about having a London pied à terre. For many based in the country yet working in the city having a ‘flat in town’ is a matter of convenience, whilst for those seeking to enjoy theatre trips or other metropolitan pleasures, it’s rather a luxury. Yet it’s been an increasingly expensive to acquire one since April 2016 when a stamp duty surcharge on second homes added an extra three per cent to each tax band, and when last year’s coronavirus lockdown made everyone flee to the country, flats in the capital were cast off rather than coveted. But what a difference a year can make. With the daily commute having partly revived for many, an appetite for metropolitan life regained, demand has shifted back towards London.

Sadiq surrenders on face masks

From our UK edition

Throughout the pandemic, Sadiq Khan has been positively evangelical on face-coverings. The Mayor of London has waxed lyrical about their virtues throughout the pandemic, declaring that: 'my mask protects you, your mask protects me' that 'if we don’t wear masks, the virus will spread further' and calling such face-coverings 'the most unselfish thing you can do.' Ahead of Boris Johnson's July 19 unlocking, Khan attacked his decision to axe the legal requirement to wear a face covering on public transport. Instead the Mayor insisted that wearing a mask remained 'a condition of carriage' for passengers using public transport in London, with some 500 enforcement officers patrolling the capital's trains and buses to eject the unmasked.

Who is – and isn’t – welcome in Sadiq Khan’s London?

From our UK edition

Right-wing Frenchman Eric Zemmour, who is expected to run for the presidency of his country next year, has been designated persona non grata in London by the city's mayor.  'Nobody who wants to divide our communities or incites hatred against people because of the colour of their skin or the god they worship is welcome in our city,' said Sadiq Khan in response to a question about Zemmour's presence in the capital. A noble declaration, one with which few would disagree, but rather incongruous coming from the mouth of Khan. For this is the man who waxed lyrical about Jeremy Corbyn at the Labour party conference in 2017.

The history of the American Memorial Chapel

The clipped voice on the old television newsreel tells us that November 27, 1958 was a gray old London day. The Queen, accompanied by Vice President Richard Nixon, was dedicating and opening the American Memorial Chapel at the far east end of the City of London’s great cathedral. Ordinary men and women from all over Britain paid for the chapel by public subscription. It was the least we could do. It was a miracle that the cathedral had survived the Nazi Blitz almost intact. One part of the cathedral was hit by a bomb in October 1940, and it was on that site that eighteen years later the Memorial Chapel was built. The Chapel is dedicated to the 28,000 American people who were stationed on British soil and died in World War Two, many of them on D-Day.

chapel

Lord Lucan, Joan Collins and the greatest dinner ever

From our UK edition

There’s a narrow stretch of Chelsea, south of the King’s Road from Oakley Street to Ormonde Gate, that reminds me of post-war London when I first came here with my dad. Names such as Margaretta Terrace, St Loo Avenue, Alpha Place and Robinson Street bring back sweet memories of youthful innocence and desire. London back then was big on rep but ranked last on comfort. Much later, towards the end of the 1950s, Queen’s Club held the second biggest tennis tournament in the land and had just one shower in the men’s locker room. (With a dirty white curtain.) It is often said that schoolboys derive no benefit from fine architecture, and it was certainly true in my case, but what I did take in was the mood.