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As Brexit Day Passes, Won’t Somebody Think of the Fancy Tinned Fish?

As the U.K. left the European Union — but, not really — on 31 January, Instagram was a requiem for a food lover’s dream

Tinned fish, an anti-Brexit marker Patricia Chang/Eater SF

Welcome back to Insta Stories, a column examining the London restaurant scene through the often-problematic medium of Instagram. This week’s filter is inspired.

News of the week

Welp, at least that’s done with. On Friday night last week, after what feels like a lifetime’s campaigning and multiple lifetimes’ parliamentary clusterfuckery, Britain finally left the EU. Hoorah! Except, apart from the bit where all the trade deal stuff still has to be negotiated. But this is still a major step! Just, not the final one. Let’s call it a milestone, maybe. Is the word “checkpoint” too charged? Anyway, the food world reacted with predictable, very specific mourning — even if #organic gelato remained firmly off the menu.

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Here we go again...

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As @alicegray said, Burgers not Brexit.

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Seasonal glut of the week

As foretold, the blood oranges are here, and they are looking particularly appealing in a winter sun / pleasant bittersweet baked goods situation.

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Steamed blood orange, clementine & barley sponge

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Divisive delicacy of the week

Another pet theory in a column that is fast becoming a Carrie Mathison-style cork-board wall display of them. The reason that a whole generation grew up with weird food turn-offs — cauliflower, cabbage, liver, semolina, rice pudding — is that NOBODY KNEW HOW TO COOK THEM. These days, boiling the hell out of a brassica or roasting a piece of offal until rock-hard would see the cook locked up for Crimes Against Seasonal Produce; the power of television and the internet is such that other means of preparing ingredients can diffuse into any kitchen with access to electricity. All of which is to say: It’s time to give tapioca another chance.

Pet prediction of the week

In hand with a vaguely Brexit-y nostalgia, the comfort food of the 1970s will make a roaring comeback.

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Iced buns hun

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Dad joke of the week

Yep, pretty solid.

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“WHO YOU GONNA CALL?” Hahahahahahahahah.

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Suggestion of the week

Why stop there? Nuked Negroni! Fried French 75! Boiled Boulevardier!

No context smut of the week

Ban this sick filth.

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Starting the day by rubbing my nuts.

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You can also put a sausage on it.

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Intriguing newcomer of the week

Since opening a decade ago, Gelupo has always been about proper Italian gelato, with proper Italian flavours, for proper Italian people. Sure, there are the occasional collaborations and the always-excellent Christmas specials, but from the shockingly verdant mint straciatella to the ludicrously creamy bonet, this tiny shop in Soho has set its stall on introducing Londoners to the specialities of gelato capitals like Bologna and Turin. This new addition to the rotation suggests the possibility of an interesting change of direction for Jacob Kennedy and co: could the parlour take in the mastic-infused delights of Turkey, the supreme purity of dairy from Hokkaido, the joys of Indian kulfi and Mexican paletas? Who knows. But if it does, it’ll certainly be a delicious journey.

Belated bandwagon-jumping of the week

Coming to supermarkets in 2025: jarred cacio e pepe sauce; head-on scarlet prawns; a katsu sando featuring neither bread nor breaded cutlet.

Etiquette dilemma of the week

Is this the liberal metropolitan elite version of the “scones: clotted cream or jam first” debate?

Don’t call it a fixation of the week

Paging Dr Freud!

Ongoing volte-face of the week

Dominique Ansel’s House of Leaves – now shifting from “eyeroll” to “actively interested.”

Dish of the week

One scoop, or ten?

Shot of the week

Another contender to replace the rockpool as 2020’s definitive presentational trend enters the race: Welcome the swoosh!


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