*Guest post by Andy*
It was Pizza Express, or Zigo’s. Two Italians. One I’ve been to about a hundred times, in various locations. The other sounded like a shot in the dark. So in we went. To start, M and I went for the avocado salad, which featured raw mushroom, slices of brown toast cut up into croutons and little evidence of the advertised vinaigrette. For my main, I chose their tagliatelle carpigliana, which the menu described as pasta with spinach, pine nuts, Gorgonzola and mascarpone in cream sauce. I like blue cheese, but I didn’t want a whole cow’s worth, so I asked the waitress to go easy on the Gorgonzola, and they did, to the extent that when the dish came I couldn’t taste any Gorgonzola. M, who ordered spaghetti bolognaise, said he could have made a better one at home, while J’s American Hot pizza was “sub-supermarket standard”. Oh, and the bottle of red we ordered would have been fine for 3.99 but at 13.95 was sheer theft. Three lessons learned: Just because it’s on Upper Street, doesn’t mean it’s ok; don’t try to mess with recipes; and finally – crucially – don’t go to Zigo’s.
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