Shake Shack sacrilege

Shake Shack, Madison Square Park, New York City

Burger, fries and a shake: $14

On my first trip to New York, I agonised over which of the city's super-burgers to try first. In what Shake Shack fans would no doubt view as a controversial move, I chose the Burger Joint. It was an amazing experience. This was before we had Meatwagon, back when Byron was still quite new, and the slightly pink, extremely meaty burger in the bowels of Le Parker Meridien was a revelation. I never made it to Shake Shack on that trip. So on my most recent visit, I felt obliged to queue in Madison Square Park and get my chops round one of the Shack's finest. 

Maltby Street marvels

40 Maltby Street, SE1 3PA
Wine and lunch for two: £35

Aside from the important things - Mr F, my family and friends - I sometimes feel as if London is one of the great loves of my life. I don't feel that way all the time, particularly when it is grey and damp. However, on a sunny weekend such as this, I cannot imagine living anywhere else. When friends talk of their aspiration to live in the countryside, I find myself dreaming of a different, more urban sort of village. This weekend, it was Bermondsey village that caught my eye and, in particular, the unstated brilliance of Maltby Street.

The queue for coffee at Monmouth

Favouritism and Great Queen Street

Great Queen Street, 32 Great Queen Street, WC2B 5AA

Meal for two: £70

What is your favourite... surely one of the most irritating questions in the world?

I hate having to reduce my appreciation of something, whether food, music or literature, into such stark terms. Favourite or not-favourite, like good or bad, can never really capture the nuances of how I feel about a thing, a person or a place. And yet... here it is: Great Queen Street is my favourite restaurant in London, if not the world. There, I said it. If you disagree, that is your prerogative, but bear in mind that I will probably question your judgement if you do. Why? Because Great Queen Street is unquestionably marvellous and peerless in its seasonal and simple yet excellent cooking. Because it is affordable and friendly. Lastly, because Mr F took me there for the my birthday when it opened, one of his most thoughtful acts in our pre-married life.

The Diner Diablo: a burger coming of age

The Diner, 18 Ganton Street, W1F 7BU

I was invited to try the Diablo but it would normally set you back £9

It took me ages to wean Mr F off the Diner. It was a source of discord in our otherwise happy home: he liked the Diner, I preferred Byron. Thus, lazy Thursday evenings and hungover Sundays were peppered with disagreement and one of us was doomed to perpetual disappointment. However, in a flash of genius inspired by the Big D, I introduced Mr F to the Byron double burger and the Diner was history. Even with the cute booths, my favourite lager in the world and Blue Oyster Cult on the playlist, the vastly superior meat finally won him over. Result.  Could a preview of their special Halloween burger change my mind? It turns out it could. Watch out Byron, the Diner might finally be about to offer you some competition. It's about time.

Chicken with girolles

Autumn is one of London's loveliest seasons. The muggy, grey summer gives way to brisk, clear days and the oppressive expectations of earlier months fade into a muted appreciation of the last few light evenings. Even so, when I expressed this view to Mr Fork earlier this week, he rolled his eyes at me and reminded me, not unreasonably, that I say every new season is my favourite. "Not true", I countered. Like many of my countrymen, I hate winter because it is cold, dark and horrid, except for a brief flurry of fairy-lit gorging and debauching at Christmas. 

Autumn, however, is generally wonderful. The weather is mild, and one gets to try out a new winter coat and cute ankle boots. Along with the wardrobe excitement, which is surely a legacy of the back to school days, September is one of my favourite months for seasonal cooking. It's the time when the woodsman's arts are at their peak, bringing game and foraged things to the markets and restaurants of a city that sometimes feels too far removed from the countryside it encroaches on. Best of all, September means mushrooms and the chance to dust off the casserole and spend an afternoon cooking slowly. Things like this chicken with girolles that we ate a month ago on a sunny pavement in the Languedoc: perfect autumnal eating tinged with the memories of summer.

Four Seasons of meat

Four Seasons, 12 Gerrard Street, W1D 5PR

Poor old Chinatown. In some ways, it is a bit like the Aberdeen Angus steakhouses: one of those London institutions that the cognoscenti regard as the sole preserve of the hapless tourist. Unlike the Aberdeen Angus, which must surely be execrable, proponents of this view are probably giving Chinatown a bit of a raw deal. Yes, there might be countless crapholes serving up bright pink goo, but is it not home to the delightful Legends family, including its latest incarnation which showcases the food of Dongbei? What about Little Lamb with its clouds of steam and delicious fishballs? How about the dim sum at Chinatown stalwart, the Joy King Lau? I'd happily spend an afternoon attacking plate after plate of their squid cakes. The posher choices may be over the road in Soho, but the Baozi Inn, in the heart of Chinatown, is still one of my favourite places for a cheap and plentiful late night bunfest. Provided they haven't sold out. 

Paris pit stop: A la Biche au Bois

A la Biche au Bois, 45 avenue Ledru-Rollin, 12th
Dinner for two: 80 euros

I hate flying, love trains and adore Paris. Accordingly, when Mr F and I were planning our summer holiday in the south of France, the budget flight to Nîmes was not an option; not when there were adventures to be had on the TGV. Taking the train meant crossing Paris to change stations, and how better to spend a few hours in Paris than in the company of people who are serious about traditional French cooking?