A good restaurant not only serves good food, it makes the world a better place – and that’s what Jay needed
I was a refugee from Planet Chaos. I had left home with the world in balance. Somewhere along the tracks between Paddington and Stroud, it had slipped off its axis. A problem needed to be solved. People needed to be reached at a time on a Friday afternoon when too many had buggered off early. And yes, all of it was the sort of cock-up that certain people, the kind who mentally punch the air after firing off a bitchy tweet, like to dismiss as “First World problems”, without noticing that we don’t talk about “the Third World” any more so we can’t refer to the First World, either. And anyway, have you tried being in, say, downtown Kigali when the broadband goes down? I have. It’s just as bloody annoying as when it goes down in Brixton.
