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Henry Little

Henry Little has written 29 posts for The London Word
Henry is 25 and desperately backpeddling, to no avail. He is a lucky man, free enough to do things and poor enough to enjoy them. But as he's dragged, kicking and screaming from one of life's pleasures to another, he remains slave to the stupid memory that says yesterday was better than today. Perhaps he's a squirrel, saving treats for later? If nothing else, he's old enough to know that things have never been so good - tomorrow will tell him so.

Le Pont de la Tour

Mini tastings at the wine merchant’s premises, set in the wonderfully atmospheric surrounds of Shad Thames

Fashion Weakling

Clutching all the scant reassurance that little gasconade could provide, it was into the Fashion Week fray once more

A Taste of the Times

Bibendum hosted one of the capital’s biggest wine tasting fairs at the Saatchi Gallery for a second year

Vegetarian at Vanilla Black

Still a dirty sneer in some circles, vegetarianism always seems to be fighting its limitations

Hot Stuff at the Big Chill

Familiar players on the London bar scene, but a festival to exceed all expectations

Wine Tasting at Berry Bros. & Rudd

Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to prefer fine wines to chain smoking or souping up a hatchback, is not for me to say, but at least with wine there is always the potential for both aesthetics and inebriation, and the more you drink, the more you know, the more you enjoy (to a point, [...]

Pasta Making at Jamie Oliver’s Recipease

In these flabby pacific times, one of the biggest battles our society needs to wage is against bad food. With Operation Jamie already well underway, and its latest weapon a hybrid cooking store, I felt it was time for soldier Little to report for duty.

Earls Court’s Real Food Festival

Fresh. Seasonal. Produce. No, not the predictable conclusion of an episode of Kitchen Nightmares, but rather the mantra of the Real Food Festival, a gathering for the capital’s conscientious foodies. But has this well-trodden vision of modern eating had its chips, and can the festival even be said to represent it?

Take a Gentlemen’s Tonic in Mayfair

Apart from Campino-striped blazers and quartet harmonies, you might wonder what there is to miss about the barbershops of old. As with most male-only establishments, they embody a slightly homoerotic fraternity.

Wine Tasting at South Bank’s Vinopolis

I like the name Vinopolis – sounds Bacchic. Hmmm, yes, oh, I’m getting: randy fauns, burbling red juices; ooh…bosoms, yes. Fig leaves, and…a little touch of sin! Delightful! Proclaim it, go on: Vinopolis! City of wine! Blessed Mother of the ancient fountain! Source of the celestial stream!