The Daily Telegraph, 1 December
Mark Palmer visits Le Café Anglais, London W2

It's odd driving past Kensington Place and seeing it half empty. The truth is that it has not been as busy since Rowley Leigh resigned last year following its sale to D&D London, bringing to an end Leigh's stupendously successful two decades in charge of one of the capital's defining restaurants. From mid-morning to late at night, KP, as it was known, fizzed and buzzed. It was the place to meet and be seen, helped in no small part by the all-glass frontage on Kensington Church Street and by Leigh's unforced conviviality that pervaded the whole shebang. No one had a bad word to say about KP (although the acoustics were shocking and the chairs could numb your buttocks after a couple of hours) and no one ever spoke ill of Leigh.

The Independent, 1 December
Tracey MacLeod visits L’Autre Pied, London W1

Happiness is a warm financier. Not only does the madeleine-style cake appear on the dessert menu at L'Autre Pied, this week's venue, but "warm financier" is also a pretty good description of my dinner guest, the Independent reader Kevin Williams. Kevin, who works for a City bank, was the highest bidder in this year's readers' auction to join me on a restaurant review. His generosity benefits charities helping vulnerable and dispossessed people at home and abroad – that's warm financing, by any reckoning. It was Kevin's choice to go to L'Autre Pied. He's an admirer of Pied à Terre, that two-Michelin-starred temple to exquisiteness, and was curious to try this, its new, less formal, sister restaurant.
L’Autre Pied – The Independent review in full >>

The Independent on Sunday, 2 December
Terry Durack visits Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester, London W1

First of all, may I welcome Monsieur Ducasse to London. With Gordon going for Paris next year, it seems only fair that France's most famous chef should choose to open a flagship restaurant here. But he brings a little of the past with him. Monsieur Ducasse, we are quite modern here, you know. Our womenfolk are not offended by menus with prices any more. In fact, the delicate little things are insulted by the assumption that the man will pay. And if you are going to list supplements over and above the £75 or £95 prix-fixe, it seems unfair to notify only 50 per cent of your diners. What with £10 extra for langoustines, Landes chicken or Dover sole, and an extra £70 every time the waiter whispers, "Would you like white Alba truffles with that?", we'll all need to sign a pre-nup before going out for dinner.
Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester – The Independent review in full >>

The Sunday Times, 2 December
AA Gill visits Divo, London SW1

I don’t think I ever demonstrated for the Ukraine. But I might chain myself to the railings outside Divo on behalf of abused ingredients. People occasionally ask me if I pick bad restaurants on purpose. I don’t, but you don’t look a gift Cossack in the mouth. Divo is spectacularly awful. To begin with, it’s a laughably awful name. They say it means “wonderful” or something, but we took a Ukrainian with us (who must remain anonymous to protect his family and donkey). He said it actually means sort of weirdly wonderful – and that covers it. Just as long as you don’t want to eat there.
Divo – The Sunday Times review in full >>

areyourreadytoorder.co.uk
Jan Moir visits Le Duc, Paris

Paris is burning, but my pain grillé isn’t, so that’s OK. Something is in the air. Perhaps it’s because the city just got 20 minutes nearer on the Eurostar, maybe it is the bracing slap of brilliant, winter sunshine in the streets of the French capital. Yet Paris has never looked more alluring, nor the restaurants so inviting. This is despite the current tensions and political unrest, which will remind many of the rough and tumble of the Thatcher years at home. Apt enough, as S and I whisk past the British Embassy in the Rue d’Anjou, the place where Mrs T once stood on the steps and faced political oblivion, although she didn’t realise it at the time. That was 17 years ago, although it seems like ancient history now. In the same street, the headless bodies of Louis XV1 and Marie Antoinette were buried in lime coffins after their brush with the guillotine. In a city full of seductions, the fact that every rue and avenue twitches with dark secrets remains one of Paris’s most captivating traits. Over the river and down into Montparnasse we pass another burial ground - the famous cemetery where Simone de Beauvoir, Samuel Beckett and, yes, even Kiki are buried – en route to a fish restaurant called Le Duc on Boulevard Raspail.
Le Duc– areyoureadytoorder.co.uk review in full >>