The British may not have the most sophisticated palates, but we are adorable in our culinary urgesAs we sit awaiting the beef rib trolley in the Grand Divan dining room at the whoppingly sized Simpson’s-in-the-Strand, we fizz with ideas of how to describe its wildly unfettered quaintness. “It’s all a bit Hogwarts, isn’t it?” I say to my friend Hugh.He’s been four times already, but then, Simpson’s is that kind of place: a handy-as-heck, posh canteen a short stroll from Covent Garden. There’s a twinkly, ye olde cocktail bar upstairs as well as Romano’s with its more European-style menu. But, for now, let’s concentrate on the Grand Divan. “It’s all very Samuel Pepys’ London,” Hugh says. Continue reading...