Showing posts with label Oxford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oxford. Show all posts

Monday, 22 June 2009

Browns study

So regular and enjoyable are Mr Gnome's visits to this buzzingly popular Oxford eatery, that he's astonished to discover he's been blogging for almost two years - and has yet to bestow his accolade upon it.

To be honest, Browns is managing pretty well without any bigging up from Mr G.

In terms of medium-priced eating out, Browns ticks every possible box: a straightforward menu of well-cooked, substantial dishes; attentive, friendly, speedy service; pleasing decor; nice loos - and excellent opportunities for people-watching among the diverse, all-age clientele.

Tonight an elderly gent at next table sported a cherishable Victorian smoking cap.

Mr G reckons that over the last decade he has eaten at Browns roughly five times per year - and the standards of vale and service have been consistent throughout.

With the young, cheerful staff gearing up for this week's graduation onrush, Professor Gnome is delighted to confer a Starred First.

Hurrah!

Monday, 19 November 2007

Nosebag for an Oxonian gnome

While Mr G's academic achievements are a closely guarded secret, his love for the ancient city of Oxford is not.

He's a frequent visitor and usually finds that he has time to ascend to his favourite local cafe, The Nosebag, tucked away up a steep flight of stairs on St Michael's Street.

Mr G likes the informal cafeteria-style servery. The healthy salads and substantial main dishes remind him of his heyday in the 1970s - as do the chunky crockery and no-nonsense decor.

Pictured is his absolute fave: the lemon cheesecake. Generous portions, or what?

Mr G is NOT a fan of the minimalist slice on the large plate with the arty swirl of coulis.

'Oh, please....' he murmurs, eyes rolling heavenwards.

The cafe is popular with students and dons, affording splendid opportunities to 'listen in' as one munches. Mr G has turned a discreetly sympathetic ear to many anguished outpourings re the state of Phyllida's PhD or Giles's overdue essay on metaphysical poetry....

Three rumbustious cheers for The Nosebag.