Good Italian food at Osteria.
An incompetent waiter prompts a trip down memory lane.
Good food followed by an hour of Trotskyite propaganda delivered with all the charm of a carriage full of soccer hooligans beating up your grandma.
Every athlete knows that the way to prepare for a ten mile race is to drink 6 pints and eat like a Belgian. Which is why I found myself in Huis the evening before the Great South Run.
Maybe Otto’s would have been a better punt after all.
Already a jolly party we were by no means discontented, but with one server struggling to keep pace with the demands of a fairly busy room the extra bonhomie that you need from a host to encourage an all out assault on the waistline and liver was definitely not forthcoming.
A very Belgian lunch in Liège.