The Devonshire Arms: Wobbly But Nice

126 Devonshire Road, W4 2JJ

tel: +44 (0)20 8742 2302

About an hour and a half into my first visit to Chiswick's newest gastropub, I asked if I could speak to the manager. A nice chap called Joe promptly came over and pulled up a chair. "Joe" I said, "I so want to love this pub. We live just down the road and I was so happy to hear you took over from that ghastly Gordon Ramsay venture that came before you." He looked at me with genuine concern as I continued. "I know you've just opened so I've gotta grant you some slack, but the service has been pretty disastrous and the main you just put down in front of my friend is a joke." Joe bowed his head and said, "I know, today has been total chaos. We're completely overrun. I am so, so sorry. Let me talk to the chef and get back to you." So here's what happened.

Our table for four was right in the middle of the main room of the pub. With wood floors and high ceilings, it's a lovely space and has all the trademarks of a gastropub. Unfortunately on the the Sunday we visited, we immediately felt like we'd been dropped into the middle of a creche. A gaggle of posh children were running wild, their parents obliviously downing bottles of rose. Of course, that's not the pub's fault, but it made it nearly impossible to have any kind of conversation without our chairs being bumped by a screeching kid with a helium balloon in tow every two minutes. We tried our best not to stick out our legs and trip the children for fun and ordered a half pint of prawns with marie rose sauce (£6.50) to start. The prawns were delicious but TINY. And I'm afraid I compare every pint of prawns with the EXCELLENT ones they have down the road at the excellent Anglesea Arms in Ravenscourt Park. There - they are huge, delicious and come with the most incredible garlic aioli. These ones just don't compare I'm afraid.

Half an hour after we finished our starter, no one had come to clear away the dishes. Our wine glasses were empty. Our bellies were growling. One of the other-people's-children started howling. I flagged down our waitress and asked if she would mind clearing the table and getting us some more drinks. She fumbled around for her notepad furiously and I said we'd all just have the same as we'd first ordered. She looked perplexed. "What did you order?" she asked. I told her and she wrote it down and then walked away without clearing any of the empties. Fifteen minutes later she returned with the wine. And then she did something curious. Even though we hadn't touched our cutlery with the prawns starter, she started taking it away and replacing it with brand new stuff. My friend said, "oh don't worry about that, we didn't use these." She said it was her job to change it anyhow. So she did. But by now we had about ten empty wine glasses on our table. She walked away without clearing any of them. It was almost comical. When the mains finally did arrive (they took an hour) she had no choice but to put the plates down on another table to clear the collection of wine glass carnage away. Friend number one dug into her slow roasted pork belly with roast potatoes, borlotti beans and cherry tomatoes (£12.50) and sighed. "This was actually worth the wait," she said purring with pleasure.

I'm afraid patience isn't one of my strong suits, so I wasn't prepared to be as forgiving. But when I tasted my grilled bavette with peppercorn sauce, chips and roasted bulb of garlic (£14.50) I too lost my edge. It was red, rare, chewy and melted in my mouth. The peppercorn sauce was deliciously rich and tasted just as good on the chips as poured over the meat. I loved the final touch of the roasted garlic which was soft, sweet and succulent. My husband had the same and gave it his approval by mopping up every bit of sauce with his last remaining chip.

Where the mains ventured off course was with friend number two's order of girolle & samphire risotto (£13.75). The portion size truly was a joke. It came in a layer so thin that there was surely only three small spoonfuls worth. It was hardly even starter size let alone a main course. Friend number one simply said, "they're taking the piss." And so that's when Joe was hailed. With his gracious apology, the dish was left at the table and 30 minutes later a new, huge portion arrived. Friend two admitted that it was delicious. It was just a shame she had to eat it on her own as the rest of us had finished ages ago. After her plate was finally cleared, Joe came over and said he'd had a word with a chef and agreed that the portion size was unacceptable. So was the wait. As compensation, he offered to take the price of ALL the mains off our bill. We accepted. And after he left the table we all agreed how much we liked him. Not just because our bill came to £30 for four but because it was the right thing to do. While my friends celebrated the deal with coffee, I ordered the oddest sounding dessert on the menu.

Hendricks gin and tonic jelly with blueberry compote and cream (£6.00). Man alive it was boozy. But great fun. And though the service was just as wobbly as the pudding, I feel compelled to return. The Devonshire Arms is experiencing some growing pains, but maybe that's to be expected. As we left, Joe apologised again and said he sincerely hoped he'd see us soon. Because of his gracious gesture and the undeniably good food - he will. 

da Polpo: Mad for Meatballs

6 Maiden Lane, WC2E 7NA

tel: +44 (0)20 7836 8448

That Russell Norman. He's on a roll. First he opened Poplo in Soho. Crowds flocked for the Venetian tapas (aka cicheti) and it was rammed to the rafters for months. Then Polpetto, above the French House, opened as a smaller more intimate venue to munch on pizzetta, zucchini fries and crispy soft shell crab. Then came the Brooklyn-style diner Spuntino which restaurant critic Jay Rayner dubbed a "shameless act of cultural larceny executed with love." And finally, we get da Polpo. Just opened across the street from my most un-favourite pub in London, the dreadful ode to Canadian stereotypes: The Maple Leaf. 

I've been to Polpo; I've been to Polpetto and liked them both very much. So I admit to being a bit skeptical that da Polpo could offer any surprises. All three restaurants share a few of the same menu items. For instance, the pizzetta bianca (£4.50) - a tomato-free pizza baked with olive oil, salt and rosemary - appears at each restaurant. So, what could da Polpo offer that was new and exciting? We decided to put our full trust in our lovely, friendly waitress Carmen and asked her to start us off with some of her favorites. 

Out came two grilled fennel and white anchovy cicheti (£2 each) and two arancini (£2.50) - a Sicilian specialty of fried riceballs, coated with breadcrumbs. Between the two, the fennel and anchovies excited my palate most. The saltiness of the fish combined with the sweetness of the fennel made for a tasty little combo. I asked Carmen whether she would recommend the pizzetta bianca, seeing as it was one of their signature dishes. "No! That's boring! I'll bring you something much more exciting." Oh, how I do love an honest waitress.

Enter the grilled mortadella, gorgonzola and picked radicchio pizzette (£6). So yum. The radicchio added a nice vinegary bite which was offset by the creaminess of the cheese and garlic kick of the sausage. The flatbread was perfectly grilled, with a crisp crust and fluffy base. Really one of my favorite dishes of the meal. I only wish I had ordered a whole one for myself.

Another simple, yet stunningly good dish was the heritage tomato salad (£5). Whenever I got to America, restaurants seem to go gaga for it (though they call it heirloom tomato salad) but I don't often see it on this side of the Atlantic. The tomatoes were so ripe, fresh and tasty. From what I can remember, it was served with good olive oil, some sprinkles of basil and sea salt. Simple and delicious. 

Now where da Polpo stands out from its sister restaurants - is the meatballs. There's a choice of six different flavors. We went for the lamb and mint. At £5 for three, we were impressed by the portion size. They were incredibly juicy and moorish. After tweeting about them, I got a great tip from fellow food bloggers @donalde and @faerietalefoody. They told me if you can't decide on the array of flavors, you can ask them for a mash-up of different ones. Had I known that, I'd have also ordered the balls of chickpea, spinach and ricotta or spicy pork and fennel. Next time...

It would have been rude not to sample a seafood and meat dish from the menu, so we chose chilli and garlic prawns (£6.50) and the grilled thin-cut sirloin (£8.50). As a gal who doubles the recommended garlic in any given recipe, I was pleased to taste the generous garlic givings on the prawns. The steak, however, was my least favorite dish of the meal. The seasoning was kept very simple, with a lemon and maybe some olive oil. Normally I'm a fan of bare naked steaks, but this needed just a little something else. What? Not sure, but I wasn't blown out of the water.

What did knock my socks off and jolt me back out of my da Polpo pleasure stupor was an affogato al cafe - a tiny scoop of vanilla ice cream or gelato, drowned in a shot of espresso (£2.50). 

Had I not insisted on ordering one thing from every category on the menu, I may have had room for the Nutella pizzetta (£5.50) or the pot of tiramisu (£4.50). The good news is, da Polpo is open seven days a week so I can see myself popping back often for bits and bites of chicheti and meatballs. Of the three Polpos - I'd recommend da Polpo for the tasty meatballs, Polpetto for the romantic atmosphere and the original Polpo for a girl's night out and a nip down to the basement for Campari cocktails.

Vietnamese Please: Cooking Class at Fernandez & Leluu

Location: Leluu's home, Hackney

Address upon booking

I've got a lot of love for Leluu. I've been to her amazing supper club twice and each time she's been such a sweet, humble and gracious host. At the first supper club, her partner in crime, Simon was cooking. The food was divine. But what really knocked my socks off was my second visit when Leluu (aka Uyen) took to the kitchen to make us a seven course meal from her native Vietnam. One of the women at my table had taken Uyen's Vietnamese Cooking Course and raved about it. I signed up then and there.

The suggested donation is £75. It includes all the ingredients for 10 dishes, dinner, tea, takeaway treats and recipes. Typically, you show up at Uyen's lovely flat in Hackney around 1pm, spend the day cooking with a small group of 6-8, eat your creations and then (optional) head to the nearby pub in the park with your newfound cookery pals. 

Uyen kicked off the afternoon by describing all the dishes we would make that day. We sat around her kitchen table sipping a glass of Hat E - a traditional Vietnamese drink of sugary water with basil seeds. Although it tasted refreshing, it looked disgusting and Uyen joked about serving it to guests, telling them it was frog spawn. That's exactly what it looked like. Luckily, it goes down a little easier when you learn it's extremely good for you and helps to soothe coughs, sore throats and is beneficial for the bowels. 

From bowels, we went on to bowls of the tasty Vietnamese soup - beef pho. Because it takes quite awhile to cook, Uyen had already started a giant simmering pot of it before we arrived.  Her flat was filled with delicious smells of meat, chillies and ginger. 

The hands-on part started with a lesson in summer rolls. They're sort of like spring rolls, but cold and not fried.  We dug into tupperware containers filled with coriander, cooked pork belly, mint, king prawns, glass noodles and Chinese chives. We soaked thin circles of rice paper for a few seconds and then stuffed them with all the ingredients. The aim is to make them all the same size and not overstuff. Most of the class caught on quickly. Me, not so much. 

My summer rolls were quite special looking. Especially the big lump on the left. Everyone had a good giggle at my expense. We dipped them in a delicious sauce of garlic, chillies, fish sauce and sugar. They were amazeballs and the fresh flavors sang in our palates.

Next up, another dish with pork belly - banh cuon. We marinated the pork belly with five spice, star anise, cinnamon, soy sauce, red wine, lime and honey. After it had soaked for awhile, we piled the pork onto bowls filled with fresh banh cuon noodles with dried shallots. We poured over a flavorful sauce of chili, garlic, fish sauce, sugar and cider vinegar. The result was incredible. Uyen said that so much of Vietnamese cooking is about using the right ingredients. Fish sauce bought from a regular grocery store is far too salty and doesn't have the same quality of Vietnamese fish sauce. Helpfully, she took us on a field trip right around the corner from her flat.

I consider myself a fairly adventurous cook, but am still a bit frightened of the unknown. Having Uyen give us a personally guided tour around one of London's best-known Vietnamese grocery stores, Le-Mi, was extraordinarily helpful. I picked up some rice paper wraps, a huge bottle of fish sauce and some coconut milk that's high in coconut - unlike many you'd find in ordinary supermarkets. 

Back at Uyen's flat, we cracked open a couples of wine we'd all brought and got on with preparing the fish with mango and lemongrass, along with roasted sea bream with spring onions and ba la lot (lemongrass, peanut, chili, garlic beef wrapped in leaves with sweet peanut sauce). The atmosphere was wonderfully relaxed and we were kept busy with the different tasks Uyen assigned to us. 

No surprise, but the highlight came at the end of the afternoon when we all sat down to sample our Vietnamese feast. The dishes were sensational and we chatted excitedly about putting on impressive dinner parties for our friends. After stuffing ourselves silly, we were all given little doggy bags of extras. Then we hit the pub and clinked glasses to a wonderful day and new foodie friends.

NOPI: Bloody good brunch

21 Warwick Street, W1B 5NE

tel: +44 (0)20 7494 9584

One of my favorite things to do on a Sunday morning is wander lazily into the kitchen, still in my pajamas, make a cup of Earl Grey tea, flop on the couch and flip through Yotam Ottolenghi's newest cookbook Plenty. With it's soft white cover and silky pages filled with gorgeous photos, it's one of the favorite books on my shelves. I like to call it my kitchen porn.

Even though, I've been an avid reader of Ottolenghi's weekly column in the Guardian, and have tried lots of his recipes, I've never actually eaten at one of his restaurants. That changed on Easter Sunday, when I made my first visit to his newest digs: NOPI. It stands for North of Piccadilly and is located on an obscure side street in Soho beside the posh Sanctum Hotel where the cheapest room will set you back £230 a night. Similarly, NOPI ain't cheap. I booked a table for brunch after many bloggers, including one of my faves - LondonEater commented on the hefty price tag of lunch and dinner. 

Just like Plenty, NOPI is quite beautiful. The white and gold interior was quite Miami Vice-ish. I didn't get a picture, but the mirrored maze in the toilets downstairs is something to behold. Be sure you take a trip to the loo. I vote it the most beautiful toilet in London. But much more importantly, the food is beautiful too. I decided on the chorizo, chickpea stew with a fried egg (£8.50). I admit, my first impression was disappointment. I forked through four small pieces of chorizo and felt a bit ripped off. But tucking in, I was wrong. The flavors were enormous and in the end, the portion was perfect. The sourdough toast it laid on was crispy on the surface and soft in the middle. The chickpeas were cooked in a gorgeous herby tomato sauce. The chorizo, divinely spicy and rich.

I thought my dish was the winner, but as it turned out, my husband's was. The young, bubbly waitress proudly put down a dish of shakshuka (£8.50) in front of him. On the menu, it's described as a "North African dish of braised eggs with pepper and tomato" and I recognised it from Plenty. The flavors were instantly foreign and evocative of our honeymoon where we could see Morocco from our balcony from the southernmost tip of Spain. Hints of cumin, onions, thyme and saffron mixed with creamy poached eggs tickled the palate. 

We started with strong Americano coffees but finished with Bloody Marys. These were one of the highlights of the entire brunch. They were a cut above any other breakfast vodka I've had - ever. I became obsessed and tried to sweet-talk one of the waiters into giving me the recipe. He shook his head, wagged his finger and said, "no chance." I jotted down some giddy notes on the ingredients I could spot: basil, fresh tomatoes, cucumber, lemon, celery and lots of vodka. I got home and tweeted @ottolenghi, begging him for the recipe. No luck; no response. I suppose I can't blame him. When you've got something great, keep the mystique going and the punters coming.

Fat Boy's Diner: Fries and Kitsch-up

Trinity Buoy Wharf, 64 Orchard Place, E14 0JW

tel: +44 (0)207 987 4334

God bless America. Land of the free, home of the brave and birthplace of the diner. Greasy burgers, thick milkshakes and fried onion rings - what's not to love? It's no wonder the concept has travelled. In this case - all the way to the banks of the Thames in London's Docklands. Fatboy's Diner is a bit of a slog to get to (our route took us on the DLR to East India Quay then via an urban bird sanctuary) but worth it for the sheer kitsch. The mobile trailer was built in New Jersey in 1941 and has been featured in the film Sliding Doors and various shoots for Vogue. Inside a faded certificate hangs crookedly on the wall. It reads: "Voted London's Best Restaurant."

Forgive me, but I find it very hard to believe that Fat Boy's Diner was EVER voted the Best Restaurant in London. Most Unique, yes. Best Decor, sure. Quirkiest Restaurant, maybe. But food-wise, it just doesn't cut the mustard. The best thing about Fat Boy's is the milkshakes. There's chocolate, strawberry, vanilla and banana - all for £2.45. They are thick, creamy and huge - served in a giant metal cup.

Fat Boy's scores points too for creativity in naming menu items.  Mustard = yellow paint. Lettuce = rabbit food. Fried onions = brown bad breath. I went for a Plus Two which encompassed a "giant Fatburger topped with crispy Canadian bacon and choice of Swiss or American cheese" for £3.95 and a side order of chips. The chips were sprinkled with seasoning salt, which I liked. The burger on the other hand...not so good. The patty tasted like it came straight from a box. It was overcooked and rubbery. Even the nice slice of Canadian bacon couldn't save it from being downright gross.

The good thing about Fat Boy's is that everything is dirt cheap. Two of us ate burgers, chips, onion rings (tasty) and drank shakes for under 20 quid. I wouldn't rush back for the food, but the atmosphere is pretty darn cool. After lunch, we went for a little wander in Trinity Buoy Wharf and discovered London's only lighthouse, a community of artists living in brightly painted shipping containers, a sculpture of a man holding a severed head and this sofa...sitting in the middle of a carpark with a nice view of the Millennium Dome. Random. But then again, so is a 1940s American diner, plopped in east London.

Chiswick House Cafe: Picnic Perfect

Chiswick House, Burlington Lane W4 2QN

tel: +44 (0)20 8995 6356

I've lived in Chiswick for nearly six years but only recently discovered Chiswick House. Of course, I'd heard of it but I had the impression it was just some grand old house set in a nice garden that you'd have to pay for the privilege to see. But one day whilst sitting at my hairdresser's, I was flipping through a Home and Garden magazine and saw an article about the cafe within the grounds. It raved not only about the modern architecture but the food itself. I admit to feeling a little ashamed for not being lured to Chiswick House by the centuries of history, but rather by the promise of a tasty lunch.

Chiswick House was built in the 1700s, so the new cafe with its clean lines and white stone is quite the juxtaposition. It feels more Italy than England. And when in Rome...what better way to spend a lunch than al fresco. 

The menu is impressive and certainly not your standard canteen fare. There are thick sandwiches filled with ingredients like taleggio, thyme and roast red onion or Piedmontese pepper and and buffalo mozzarella that all hover around the £5 mark. There are savory tarts, salads, hearty stews and sausages and mash. The menu changes once a month and tries to stick to the seasons.

On my first visit, I opted for the soup of the day - butternut squash with pumpkin, served with a slice of sourdough bread (£3.95). It was served in one of the most adorable mini-cauldrons I've ever seen, accompanied by a thick slice of sourdough bread. The soup was thick and perfectly spiced, each spoonful a delight of autumnal flavours. The bread was still warm and the sourness provided the perfect partner to the sweetness of the squash. 

For my second visit on a gorgeous February day, I ordered a cauliflower, spinach and potato curry served with naan bread (£8.50). It was nicely spiced with hints of cardamon and ginger. It was missing a tiny something, but then I found a lone slice of lime hidden under my naan. That was the ticket. For a small bowl, it was remarkably filling and sadly I didn't have room to stuff any of the mouthwatering selection of cakes, meringues,  crumbles, brownies and flapjacks down my gob. There's also hand-roasted coffee, pots of tea, posh juices, wine and bottled beer. For early birds, the cafe serves breakfast from 0830 everyday. The choices look tasty: sausage sandwiches, eggs benedict, smoked salmon portobello mushrooms on sourdough toast and a traditional full-English fry-up. The surroundings are gorgeous, the architecture impressive, but still it's likely still the food that I'll return for. There's hardly a nicer place to have an al fresco lunch in the wilds of west London.

Foodie Getaway: Weekend in Whitstable

I was so looking forward to Christmas this year. Newly married, my husband and I decided to spend the holidays alone - away from the madness of in-laws. I booked a cosy cottage in the Lake District and made reservations at the excellent Jumble Room in Grasmere, and the superb Drunken Duck in Ambleside. But as sod's law would have it, two disasters struck. First: Snowmageddon hit Britain (or to this haughty Canadian - a sprinkle of snow). Second: a nasty flu bug hit me. Holiday cancelled, we spend our first Christmas as a married couple on the sofa in our flat watching DVDs as I shivered under blankets with a hot water bottle. Two weeks later when I recovered, I booked a weekend in Whitstable to make up for the flu-that-stole-Christmas. I had a few friends who had visited in recent months and they all came back raving about the restaurants. First on my weekend hitlist was The Sportsman.

This gastropub earned itself a Michelin star in 2008 and foodies have been scrambling to get a table ever since. It's about two miles down the road from Whitstable. We walked along the sea, which took us about an hour and a half. The chef, Stephen Harris is self-taught and started cooking professionally at 33.  We began with three poached rock oysters with pickled cucumber and caviar (£7.95). They were unbelievably creamy with a nice splash of vinegar and the rich aftertaste of caviar. I liked them very much, but my oyster-loving husband said the cream overtook the freshness and raw taste of the oysters. So after polishing off the poached ones, we ordered two Whitstable oysters (£2.95 each) - on the rocks.

"Much better," cooed my husband. He was even happier when the waitress pointed outside the window and told him they had been caught that very morning just a few feet from the front door of the pub.

For my after-oyster starter, I opted for the crab risotto (£9.95). It was intensely rich, cooked in a crabby broth, but remarkably light for a risotto. The grains of rice were much thinner than typical risottos and the portion size just right for a starter. The shaved crab on top was so fresh, I imagined it was happily crawling across the shore that very morning (sorry crab). It was easily my favourite course.

If I had one regret, it's that I didn't stick with seafood for my main course. Instead I was swayed by the waitress who said the local lamb with homemade mint sauce (£16.95) was by far her favourite dish on the menu. Don't get me wrong, it was lovely. But it did taste like every gastropub Sunday lunch I've had in London recently. Being a Michelin-starred pub, I suppose I was expecting something a little more extraordinary. My fella did slightly better with a succulent rich roast breast and confit leg of Aylesbury duck with red wine sauce (£16.95). Both our mains were washed down with the best wine I've had this year:  a spicy 2008 number called Caliterra Tributo Carmenere from Chile (£19.95).

For desert, I chose the cream cheese ice cream and pear puree. The ice cream was delicious, but the pear puree with bits of meringue made it a bit too sweet for my liking. All in all, The Sportsman was very good and the service, some of the friendliest we had encountered. It was a wee bit pricey, so I might not rush back immediately, but would definitely recommend it for a special meal or a celebration.

We had planned to eat dinner at the Whitstable institution that is Wheeler's Oyster Bar. Located on the High Street, Wheeler's has been around for over 150 years and critics say it has the best seafood in town. But, bad news for us - it was closed for a winter break. Instead, the owner of our wonderful B&B suggested a place right next door called Samphire. Not having any expectations, we were pleasantly surprised and loved the pork belly starter with roasted apple chutney (£5.95). Hubby had a gorgeous vegetarian pie with roasted butternut squash and twineham cheese, which we were told was like an English parmesan (£13.50). The food and atmosphere were very homey. 

But the best meal of the weekend was had at JoJo's, a 15 minute walk from Whitstable. I had read a glowing review by Jay Rayner. But things had changed significantly since he wrote that article. JoJo's is no longer a "stripped out bedsit" - but rather a full-fledged restaurant that's now six times the size it once was. It's a buzzy, fun restaurant which specialises in Mediterranean mezze, like the chargrilled squid with chorizo, red pepper, cherry tomatoes and shallots (£9.95) pictured above.

Nikki Billington (middle) is the entertaining, frenetic chef. Her partner Paul Watson is front of house. When I called to make a booking, he told me JoJo's was BYOB. "Corkage is £2 a bottle - unless you buy your wine from Tesco - then it's £5 a bottle," he said seriously. We were lucky enough to secure one of the last spots in the restaurant - at the bar overlooking the kitchen. We got to witness Nikki's wit and the fast-pace of a busy kitchen in action.

We loved the golden, crispy deep fried courgettes with parmesan and garlic mayo (£5.30). Nikki swore at her sous-chef when they didn't come out perfectly the first time and asked them to make them over again. He mouthed something silently back at her, but did as he was told - and they came out perfectly battered.

The Monkshill mutton and feta koftas with spicy tomato sauce and tsatziki (£9.50) were tasty and gave me memories of traveling round the Greek islands. The sauce was absolutely gorgeous, with just the right amount of kick. I told Nikki so and she offered to email me the recipe if I wanted it.

The chargrilled sardines with lemon and black pepper (£6.95) were blackened on the outside, but perfectly tender on the inside.

I chose the plum crumble with ice cream (£5.25) over the chocolate torte for desert. Paul warned me it would take about 15 minutes to cook, but I was happy to digest the flavours of the mezze and watch the bustling kitchen while I waited. When it came, the crumble was a delicious blend of sour plum and browned sugar. It was the perfect end to the perfect foodie weekend. Since raving about these three spots on Twitter, a Whitstable local (@SimonPoole) got in touch to say I should add the Three Mariners at Oare to my list, as well as Salt Marsh and the Dove at Dartgate. Being just an hour and a half from London, I most certainly will return and am already licking my lips in anticipation.


The Sportsman
Faversham Road, Seasalter, Whitstable, Kent CT5 4BP
tel: +44 (0)1227 273 370


Samphire
4 High Street, Whitstable CT5 1BQ
tel: +44 (0)1227 770 075


JoJo's
2 Herne Bay Road, Whitstable, CT5 2LQ
tel: +44 (0)1227 274 591