From Christmas Trees to Pulled Pork


It certainly wasn’t a relaxing weekend, but what it lacked in peacefulness, it made up for in festive spirit.

This year’s trip to our local Christmas tree farm was short and sweet but we found a lovely tree with relative ease and also had time to admire their (slightly grumpy) resident reindeer while we waited for it to be netted up. After that we hotfooted it into London for a day of Christmas shopping on Regent Street followed by a family lunch on Sunday.

Liberty was looking amazing as usual, their outsized golden paper chains surprisingly simple yet very effective viewed from above or below. Despite the insane amount of shoppers, we managed a quick turn around their Christmas department. I was quite taken with the life-size toy reindeer, although the price tag of nearly £1,300 was a little eye-watering. I’m not sure we’d have got it on the bus anyway…



My husband took little persuading to try out Pitt Cue Co. in Soho for lunch. It’s tiny inside, and you should expect to queue as they don’t take bookings, but the bar can help you there with its carefully chosen selection of beers, bourbons and cocktails.

We shared a table with another couple in the subterranean dining room which is cosy/cramped depending on your outlook, and turned our attention to the food. Inspired by the barbecue style of the American south, its all about the meat; slow-cooked, smoked meat that is finished over charcoal.


We shared a pulled pork bun and beef ribs, with sides of house salad and baked beans. The pork was gloriously succulent and the ribs were encrusted with smokey goodness on the outside but were meltingly tender within, allowing the bones to be stripped with ruthless efficiency. It’s rare that I enjoy a side dish almost as much as my main, but our beans and salad were spot on; delicious nuggets of pork nestled amongst the beans and the salad came adorned with pomegranate seeds.

The end of the meal was (very slightly) marred by the loud, braying family that were seated on the adjacent table to ours and proceeded to play a loud, braying game of ‘Quis? Ego‘. If this is a new one on you, you’ll be pleased to know that I hadn’t heard of it either, but my husband filled me in. It was vaguely irritating and somewhat incongruous in this most compact and pared back of restaurants, but it wouldn’t stop me going back.

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