The Diary was lunching in Sir Terence Conran’s Mezzo last week when an alarming commotion broke out between two chefs behind the glass-walled kitchen, which one can only imagine is there to allow diners to view such events. Within seconds, a heaving melee of waiters and junior chefs gathered around the com-batants trying to part them.
Eventually, like boxers, they were led away to opposite ends of the kitchen. Were the two men fighting, the Diary enquired of a passing waiter, over how to make the food blander than it already is?
The waiter replied: “Well one is a black South African. The other is a white South African. These things happen.”
Like sport and politics, the Diary believes food and diplomacy should be kept apart. As long, at least, as both parties are in reach of carving knives.