Half Century of [insert pejorative here]

To celebrate 50 nations conquered by my tummy, I thought I would undertake a retrospective of what has quickly become the hallmark of Restaurants of the World Unite. The pithy reviews? No. The useful information? No. The witty back-and-forths with my commenters? Hardly. No, what is truely the trademark of this blog is the photography. The pitifully inept photography. There is no error too amateurish, no oversight too sophmoric that I have not made. Over and over again.

So to dishonour the many restaurants that I have favoured with my custom and humiliated with my opposite-of-talent, take a look at this rogue’s gallery of ineptitude, cack-handedness and over-exposure. And bear in mind, these are the photos I deemed good enough to get to the blog. Apple have served with me with a court injunction preventing me from posting the others lest they are forced to withdraw the iPhone5 from circulation.


LIGHTING (Yes there are enough photos to warrant categorisation)

Bigos after

Where to start? Apologies Malina.

Not my cup of tea. Draw your own conclusions. Dangles wolfed it down.

OK, it’s Caprice, so it’s going to be delicious. But can we be sure that I’m not doing them a favour by not showing too much detail?

Octopus a la Plancha

Dehesa deserves better than this.

FOCUS (Foc all of us)


There’s a lot wrong with this picture from Sakura. Composition, angle, etc. But we can all agree that given I had plenty of time and good lighting there’s no excuse to not be able to focus on the main dish.

Khinkali dumplings. It looks like my GCSE art project, simply entitled "Dumplings I shall eat in 2013 in clay." Grade U (ungraded)

Right in front of me. These dumplings from Mimino were hardly a moving target.

Dirty great lumps of chicken.

It was pathetic before. But now it’s getting really pathetic. No excuse Gilak.

Looks nice enough.

Someone had even thoughtfully put the dish under my nose, but I couldn’t keep my sh*t together. Still, it reflected the (truly awful) quality of the food from Royal China.

Om Ali. All my school dinner nightmares rolled into one.

To be fair, I was not predisposed to like nor promote Om Ali from Ali Baba.

Rump steak. Food photography doesn't come much better than this.

Is this the nadir? Pepe Anca.

Blurry, shredded, crispy duck.

No this is. Taiwan Village.

Mushrooms mit bacon und walnuts. Or Bacon with mushrooms and walnuts. Or walnuts with bacon and mushrooms.

To be fair, I don’t think there’s much quality photography occurring in Austrian basements.

Garlic soup. Del Monte's uncanny eye for a shot is rather undermined by his early onset Parkinsons.

This is quite recent. As you can see, no improvement in Madrid.

UNREADABLE MENU (Just in case the blog could be useful)


Really, what’s the point? Pho.

Compounding the futility of the above picture, here's the other page of the menu.

I can probably be sued on environmental lines due to the waste of electricity this represents. Pico.

The menu. Can you read that? Didn't think so.

Compounding the futility of the above picture, here’s the other page of the menu.

CAMERA STRAIGHT? NO (Screw you spirit levels/vestibular system)

I've been trying to think of an Indian Zing all day. New Delhi? Old Delhi more like! Zing ... I've got nothing.

Indian Zing is not on a hill.

One of the few pictures that paints fewer than a thousand words.

There was no earthquake in Tinseltown.

It's like the refectory deck of the enterprise. McCoy is probably at the bar swigging Romulan Ale and moaning about Spock's B.O.

I was not on a river, just in a River Cafe.

Godammit, I can't even hold the chuffing camera straight.

Maceiras was on a hill, but I overcompensated.

TIMING! (Ate too soon then snapped)

The Hors d'oeuvre. Real horish.

No one can blame me for doing this in Pearl Liang.

Lamb Kuzi after - your eyes are not lying to you: them's vertebrae.

At last, a sight as grizzly as my photography. Sarchnar.

What was left of the sardines after the first 15 seconds.

I was just really hungry I think. O Minhoto.

And the same with Kahari. We were frenzied and wanting to feed.

No photograph would have been better than this photograph. I’m sorry Tayyabs.

COMPOSITION (And lack of composure)

Like how I've focused on the rice? That's the important thing, not the exotic dish in the background.

Like how I’ve focused on the rice? That’s the important thing, not the exotic dish in the background. Kathamandu Inn.

My Koresht Bademja. Kazam!

Again, I insist on having the rice dominate the picture. Gilak.

REFLECTION (The flash isn’t helping. Unlike its superhero namesake. He’s very helpful.)

Menu of Starters.

Good luck reading those hot appetisers. Mimino.

Le menu. Disappointed to learn that the goat curry is made with sheeps.

There is a void between Grill and Salads. Much like in life. Guanabana.

El Menu. Has an index. Massive.

Yikes! That’s blinding. Andres DC.

THUMBS (Middle finger)

I did take this picture. Can you tell? It's the lighting isn't it. I know, I know. It's just not my thing.

I did take this picture. Can you tell? It’s the lighting isn’t it. I know, I know. It’s just not my thing. Vine Leaves Taverna.

This blog is fast becoming a homage to my thumb, showing my thumb in a variety of settings. Where will you see my thumb next? You can't wait to find out!

I’m available for weddings, funerals, bar mitzvahs, jihads. Really available. Literally no one has booked me. Brackenbury Restaurant.

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