May 8, 2013
I’ve had a mild obsession with Jamie Oliver for years — I used to come home from school and watch him on Food Network. It’s cooks like him that started me on the road to being the food-obsessed girl I am now. So, I couldn’t go to London without visiting one of his restaurants.
Barbecoa is on prime real estate with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out on Saint Paul’s Cathedral, specializing in dishes centered around meat and fire, whether it’s steak on grills, chicken roasted in wood-fired ovens, or pit-smoked beef. It’s a testosterone-filled menu, though with the occasional delicate touch like my cocktail: a Death in the Afternoon with a rose petal for garnish.
Honestly, I felt a bit out-of-place. We went during lunchtime and were quickly surrounded by suits. Not that there’s anything wrong with suits, but the folks around us were clearly more interested in closing the deal than the (quite good) food in front of them.