Bardo Burner

How a mini-stroke led me to a reset and serenity on a down-to-earth Greek island retreat

**Life’s too short: Karen finds peace on Lefkada**

It had been a hell of a year and I was searching the web for something to help put a full stop at the end of one phase of life and kickstart the next bit. Right at the end of 2022, shortly before Christmas and two weeks before my 60th birthday, I had a transient ischaemic attack – or mini-stroke, which makes it sound far more dramatic than I’d care to admit it was – during a lesson with my Year 4 pupils.

As a class, we were watching a short moralistic video about cartoon animals with a dilemma, which was to form the stimulus for a discussion. A few minutes into it, I realised I no longer had a clear idea of what was going on around me. The video played on, although the words had become incomprehensible. Familiar but intangible.

It might sound weird, but what I felt was far more like curiosity than fear. Grasping to find some sort of sense in this situation, I picked up a pen and started to write. My hand moved. My eyes looked down at a Post-it note on which I’d jotted recognisable letters forming gibberish words.

**Bay of plenty: The retreat centre’s beach**

By the time the video ended, the attack was over. The bell went, and the class left the room. I had no headache, no weakness, nothing. Just an almighty awareness that something major had occurred and that I needed to get help. Shortly afterwards, after arguing adamantly against any further investigation into what had happened with the school nurse and a GP she had called to speak to me over the phone, I was in Accident and Emergency. I’d had both a lucky escape and a wake-up call.

The next six weeks passed in a blur of tests, which revealed nothing. I was fit and healthy enough and this was just one of those things. The doctors prescribed statins and an antiplatelet medication, and I went back to the primary school where I’d taught for 16 years.

Given a reduced timetable by my employers, I could easily have drifted into part-time work, but I’d never pictured myself slowly fading out of teaching. On top of this, I saw the work treadmill, as cosy as mine had seemed, quite suddenly and sharply for what it was. I was stressed and burnt out, and what I felt was an overwhelming sense of relief that I could finally admit this and think about what I wanted out of my remaining years on this planet. By Easter I’d handed my notice in.

**Wide open: A view from the retreat centre’s beach over the bay**

I knew I wasn’t retiring to a life of slippers and Netflix, although this was simultaneously my greatest fear. Which leads me back to that search.

July and August were a doddle: in the world of education, life runs in terms and I’m used to an eight-week holiday in summer. But what after that? September, the time of new beginnings for everyone involved in schools, was set to be a toughie for me. What I instinctively felt I needed was something far removed from my usual life: a deep breath, a pause in the hamster wheel of life and a chance for a personal regroup. If I wasn’t going back to work I knew I needed some sort of focus and I began to look for a retreat. I’d never been on anything like that before, though, and was a damn sight more sure about what I didn’t want than what I did.

No carefully weighed-out food portions, no group discussions with compulsory contributions, no white coats, no elaborate yoga poses, no shared rooms, no silence unless I wanted it to be so, no talking if I didn’t want to, no service in the form of washing bathroom floors, etc, and above all, no colonic cleansing.

**Balcony with a view: There are worse places to watch the world**

I know, I know… it all sounds incredibly negative. I was, however, an expert at jumping through other people’s hoops. It was time to march to the beat of a different drummer, at least for a while.

There were many websites with beautifully posed, serene-looking punters sitting cross-legged on mats looking blissed out against a background of brilliant blue sea or greenly fertile mountains. There was an abundance of images of clean, sterile accommodations with white bedding, and green leafy meals. And on I scoured. I was simply looking for the photos of less shiny-looking people with a hint that they had the option to sit more comfortably on chairs.

The first thing that appealed to me about Serenity Retreats when I stumbled across their website was the down-to-earth language and obvious flexibility of what they were offering. The pictures are practical and realistic, showing the beautiful views and the accommodation. No glossy pics of shiny, smiling faces, though in reality there are many, which fits in with the respect for personal space and privacy that dominates this company’s philosophy.

**Lodgings: The retreat centre’s accommodation seen from the beach**

As I read on, Kim, who founded the company in 2010, spelt out clearly and repeatedly in language that didn’t sound like it was lifted straight from an advertising manual, that the holiday you had with them was entirely in your hands. They offer seven-day solo holidays, all in individual self-catering apartments in several small blocks with a sea view, with as much or as little interaction with the organisers and other guests as you want. I attended the retreat on the Greek island of Lefkada, but Kim – who works with several others including her sister, Jools – runs retreats in the UK and Morocco too.

“Don’t want to take part in the organised programme? Just need to chill? That’s okay. The choice will always be yours: solitude, the company of like-minded people, a week’s course or activities, going on trips or all of the above.” That’s my kind of sell. Under courses, I saw the words, “this is not a bootcamp”. No courses at Serenity start before 10.30am, and even then you attend only what you feel like doing at the time.

From the website, I went straight to the reviews. Mostly five star, again and again they told the story of a place where people had gone in search of “unplugging” from 21st-century life, and found exactly what they needed.

**Plain sailing: Boats on the bay at Nikiana**

At Serenity you feel looked after from the first interactions via email, through being fetched at the airport, to the welcome meal and walk around the village of Nikiana, and there is always help at the end of a WhatsApp message should you need it. Alongside this is a clear message to do whatever you feel you need to do, and above all to listen to what your body is telling you.

There is only one unbreakable rule at Serenity and that is that your apartment is your castle: you don’t knock uninvited on anyone’s door, you don’t shout up at balconies as you walk past. It’s clearly a formula that works. Sixty per cent of guests return at some point.

Serenity Retreats works with the locals as much as they can, as was obvious when the group walked around the small village on the first day. Kim introduced us to the owners of shops and cafes, and our taxi driver to and from the airport was Panos, the village cabbie.

They offer several different optional courses as well as massages from another local, Giota, who became part of the team in 2017. Included in your holiday is a daily 9.30am mindfulness session held down by the sea. Again, no expectation to attend, and we were told quite specifically not to set an alarm clock, but to come if it felt like the right thing at the time. As meditation has been a proper life-changer for me, I was a regular. Chairs provided.

**Home from home: Karen’s retreat room, above and below**

I stayed in a first-floor apartment – Maria Middle – which was perfect for me, with a small kitchen and living area and a good-sized, comfortable double bed. We first floorers all had balconies and the ground floor flats all came with small terraces leading on to the beach. Everyone is lulled to sleep by the sound of lapping waves. There are some organised trips should you choose – I didn’t for the most part – and the feedback from all of these was positive. Mostly I sat and stared at the sea or wandered round the village.

I tended to brunch at “home” and then often met up with others for one meal out, generally in the evening. As a vegan, my favourite cafe was Apico, a mere several minutes from my room and with three substantial and labelled plant-based options.

Local tavernas and bakeries rely a little too heavily on dairy alongside the veg for non-meat options. But if you ask, they can always whip up a couple of vegetable dishes. The local produce available in the three small supermarkets in the town was superb and I lived off the truly delicious lemon humous and gigantes beans.

**In the other direction: The mountains behind the village**

So what did I get out of it? I got that pause. Before heading off, I’d been extremely nervous about how 25 or so strangers could coexist while each getting the level of interaction and solo time they needed. They just did.

We were there for very different reasons, but in common we had the fact that on some level we were all seeking the same thing and that we had all found Serenity. When we were together as a small or a larger group, the respect and companionship among the group was palpable.

I got the confidence that comes with knowing I can and have been on my own adventure and that I did it by myself. Through talking to other people and discovering their own reasons for being there – for we all had a story – I reaffirmed what I knew when I walked out of my classroom for the final time. Life really is too short not to discover how best to live it in a way that works for you.

**Another day: The sun goes down over the bay**

A little bit of everything please! Where plant-based quality and quantity meet in Cologne

Big plate of vegan food at Sattgrün, Cologne — **Make mine a large one: The Sattgrün big plate, heaped with vegan loveliness**

As a solo traveller with an appetite for quantity as well as quality when it comes to vegan food, finding the Cologne branch of Sattgrün on the Happy Cow app was a godsend at the tail-end of a busy day.

The food is presented canteen-style, starting with a soup area, where you can help yourself to a small or larger-sized bowl of whatever hearty soup is on offer each day. If thats’s all you fancy, you’ll be paying €5 to €7 for a bowl including bread. A similar size dish of mixed salads costs around the same.

It had been a long day of sight-seeing and I was peckish; I went straight for the large plate size, currently costing around €16 (there are smaller, cheaper options available).

There are around 10 salads and vegetable side dishes available alongside five or six mains. I added a bit of most of the offerings to my plate.

Serving counter at Sattgrün, Cologne — **Canteen style: Happy diners get feasting at the Sattgrün serving counter**

To give you a flavour of the choices, they included roasted sweetheart cabbage in orange and ginger sauce, lentil curry with chickpeas, fried soya medallions in peanut sauce, tofu stroganoff, and plenty of rice and pasta-type recipes. I’m a huge potato fan so I especially liked the crispy roasties with finely chopped almonds.

In general, the food felt wholesome and it was tasty. And although I was too full for cake on this occasion, I saw some delicious-looking desserts that I’d definitely try next time.

The system was really easy to follow, which is important to me, as is friendly service, and the young woman who took my drinks order was a delight. Again, as a solo traveller, these little interactions make a big difference to your day.

Outdoor dining area at Sattgrün, Cologne — **Al fresco: The outdoor eating area at Sattgrün in Cologne**

There was a chilled vibe to this restaurant, which had a large, comfortable outdoor area as well as indoor seating. When I went there, it was not over-busy but it was clear that this was a place popular with locals as well as tourists.

Cologne Sattgrün is part of a small chain of restaurants, and there are also branches in Düsseldorf and Essen, which I’d be keen to sample on future visits to Germany.

As an aside, I found this gem, as I find most places I choose to eat in, through Happy Cow. I’d imagine most travellers have this installed, but if you don’t, I can’t recommend it highly enough.

A tasty visit to the newest branch of the German vegan cat cafe chain Katzentempel

**The wholesome vegan brunch at the Cologne branch of Katzentempel**

Plant-based brunch in the company of a clowder of rescue cats? There was no way I was going to miss the opportunity when, on a recent European sojourn, I passed a new branch of the German vegan cat cafe chain Katzentempel.

The branch in Cologne, which opened in August 2023, is the 15th Katzentempel to be established in Germany over the past eight years. It is in the heart of Chlodwigplatz, a charming old area of southern Cologne with a small market in the shadow of a 12th-century city gate and myriad quirky little stores and other eateries.

Founders Kathrin Karl and Thomas Leidner, who manage the Munich branch and are responsible for issuing the franchise licenses, say: “The Cat Temple is more than our job – it is our calling and the fulfilment of our dream to make the world a little better.”

It’s a lovely idea, part of the profits are donated to animal charities, and the pair have made a real success of it countrywide. The menu across all the cafes is totally vegan, a deliberate choice made primarily for ethical reasons by the pair.

**The cats of Katzentempel show a soporific form of affection for diners**

“A vegan meal not only promotes animal welfare and rails against the usual system of factory farming; it also does wonders for the environment,” the founders continue. “For example, did you know that a full 90 per cent of the world’s soya bean harvest and 50 per cent of the grain and corn harvest does not end up on our plates, but in the animals’ feeding troughs?

“We now eat so many animals that keeping them consumes an unimaginable amount of resources and thus destroys our environment, especially the rainforests.”

**The Cologne branch of Katzentempel is in the charming Chlodwigplatz district**

Katzentempel offers a rich and varied menu consisting mainly of sandwiches, burgers and bowls, along with some tasty-sounding desserts. The meals are all served with a large rainbow of salad. I had the croissantwich brunch, which exceeded my expectations. This was a large croissant, filled with carrot ‘salmon’ and other salad vegetables, served alongside the real star of the show – the scrabbled tofu. The latter was really tasty with a great ‘eggy’ texture.

The service at the bright modern Cologne branch, which was kitted out with an array of ledges and high walkways for the five furry inhabitants to explore, was friendly and warm.

As for the cats themselves… they seemed totally unimpressed by the cooing paying customers around them. They just did that feline thing and pretty much slept through the whole experience.

High-end vegan dining in a basement… but there’s an easy way to eat a lot cheaper at 123V

**The Crispy Rice Green Dynamite tasted as good as it looked… but could have been had much cheaper as part of the bottomless sushi option**

My biggest takeaway from a recent Sunday lunchtime visit to 123V in the basement at Fenwick department store in London was that next time I’ll have the bottomless sushi.

We arrived hungry, promptly at noon as the restaurant opened, and for a while were the only people there. It’s another plant-based dining experience from the vegan chef Alexis Gauthier, and the place soon started to fill up, as did the outside terrace section.

As a claustrophobe, I’m not a fan of basement dining and tend to avoid restaurants without windows, but this wasn’t an issue at all in 123V, which is a large, airy and pleasant space in which to eat.

**The Soba Noodle Tiger Bowl was a mushroom lover’s delight**

Two of my companions – this time there were four of us – had gone for the £30 per person limitless package on a previous visit, and been stunned by the array of food presented to them and by the value for money, both in terms of taste and quantity.

This time we went a little rogue and ordered from the main menu starting with two portions of the ‘Prawn’ Tempura at £17 each. As the picture shows, both came in one rather disappointingly small bowl.

We found it a bit perplexing and assumed it was just one of our orders until 10 minutes later when no further food had arrived. No, we were politely assured. The diminutive bowl of tempura in front of us was in fact £34’s worth and enough for four diners.

**This is two portions of Tempura crammed into one bowl, a peculiar decision for a restaurant to make on behalf of its customers**

Confusion solved, there was still a sour taste lingering in the mouth. It was good tempura, but not that good. However, the meals – this time each one served on a separate plate – were all varying degrees of delicious and we soon snapped out of any remaining snit.

I had the Quesadilla Verde, which was fine, but not the best of the meals. I did get a touch of food envy when I looked at the other culinary delights arriving. The filling was okay, but the outside felt a little dry and crispier than I’ve had before.

Both the Petit Sushi Set and the Crispy Rice Green Dynamite looked beautiful. Both were colourful and fresh, and so appetising to the eye. And like the Prawn Tempura, both would have been included in the bottomless brunch. Maybe you can see where this is going…

**Ah, the Pavlova… this kind of stuff can be hard to find in vegan form, and this one was spectacular**

The Soba Noodle Tiger Bowl looked excellent to a mushroom lover like myself and was given a firm thumbs up.

For dessert, the Pavlova was delightful. Chewy meringue with raspberry sorbet and vanilla cream. The real star among the sweets was perhaps the Macrons, which we were worried might be a little on the small side, it being fine dining after all. Not at all – there were four large but delicate-looking sandwich cookies with a crisp interior.

**Macrons often err on the small side but these were just right**

The clientele at that time was completely varied; we were surrounded by families, couples and friend groups. It was a lovely way to spend the early part of a Sunday afternoon.

But for those among us with larger appetites, it’s most definitely the sushi special on any subsequent visits.

The 3-minute breathing space meditation develops the power of short moments, many times

**You can meditate wherever you are, any time…** Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

One of the most common concerns for people trying to develop a meditation practice is time. As in, I simply don’t have 10, 15, whatever minutes to sit down and meditate every day. Naturally, it’s a question of commitment; for if you really want to practise meditation, you will make the required time no matter how busy your life.

But here’s an alternative: short moments, many times. Instead of a longer daily sit, a number of brief ones scattered through your day. The three-minute breathing space – a modern mindfulness classic – does the job well.

You sit – or stand, or lie down – and take a minute to observe the fluctuations of your mind, feel whatever sensations are arising in your body, experiencing it all without judgment; then you draw your awareness in to focus on the movements of your breath for a minute; and finally, you allow your awareness to expand out, taking in the whole body, sounds, the space around you… before returning to your affairs.

If you’re interested, try my guided three-minute breathing space meditation here. If it appeals, it’ll only take a handful of tries with guidance before you’re familiar enough with the process to fly solo out there in the wild.

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Just three minutes: centre yourself in awareness

These three minutes can have a powerful effect, helping you to calmly centre yourself in awareness by breaking the spell of flying through your life on autopilot. It’s worth finding opportunities here are there to practise like this: on the tube to work, on a park bench, in a workplace, even if it means sitting in the loo for three minutes…

Those three-minute meditations – short moments, many times – soon add up to a mindfulness practice that could help you find more ease in your life. They might even inspire you eventually to try longer sits; these aren’t for everyone but there’s nothing like spending a good stretch of time observing the fluctuations of your mind to start understanding its nature.

It’s a long-term project, for sure; one, in fact, with no end goal other than some insight into who you really are.

Martin Yelverton is a mindfulness, yoga and Pilates teacher based in East London, currently offering classes online or one-to-one in person. Details at yogayelvy.com

A piquant take on vegan fast food from the plant-based veteran Club Mexicana

**And this was just for starters: The spectacular fully loaded nachos at Club Mexicana**

Club Mexicana in London’s Soho has been around in one incarnation or another since 2014. That’s only nine years ago, but in terms of vegan food offerings that timescale feels like a lifetime away.

Back then, in the pre-Cowspiracy days, many of us were still unable to conceive of a life without cheese omelettes, and there were far more vegetarian than vegan restaurants. Club Mexicana was established to smash the then preconceptions of plant-based food as merely lettuce and lentils, spicing up that notion by serving delicious quick Mexican food.

Originally it was part of the burgeoning street food scene in London; beginning as a supper club in a Hackney café, the founders cut their teeth by also serving great plant-based food at all the UK’s major festivals. Club Mexicana later moved to Seven Dials Market, which is focused on the notion of sustainability in eating.

Although I had sometimes walked through the invariably packed food area that is Kingly Court on a couple of occasions en route from Oxford Street heading further into Soho, I’d never thought to check out any of the food on offer in this bustling area. That was a mistake.

Club Mexicana opened its first restaurant there in August 2020, and its distinctive neon pink exterior and tables are pretty hard to miss. We were greeted by an incredibly bouncy young staff, all very keen to help and receptive to the slightest nod for assistance. We arrived at noon, when the place just had just opened and at that point it was all but empty, but just 10 minutes later, the entire court was jam packed.

**All the colours: The bowl version of the fried chick’n burrito, which is also available as a wrap**

It’s fast food, so tables are opening up the whole time, although it is possible to book, which I would highly recommend. The whole atmosphere around there is friendly and lively, and suitable for pretty much any group.

At that time of day there were families, groups of friends, and solo local workers who had clearly just popped in for lunch. The menu also offers an extensive range of vegan cocktails, so it would be a good place to start or end an evening out.

The food looked and tasted delicious. We started with the fully loaded nachos – a whole tray of tortilla chips, queso, ground “beef”, guacamole, pico de gallo, pink onions, pickled jalapeños, chipotle oil, with a sprinkle of chilli lime salt – which were super-colourful, piquant, and superbly spiced without being too hot. All those flavours kept you wanting to sample more, and more and even more.

Mains are predominantly tacos, bowls or wraps. I had the bowl version of the fried chick’n burrito (also available as a wrap), which, again, was an absolute delight on the eye. The presentation definitely got my mouth watering before sampling the offerings.
Desserts were ice cream or churros, but honestly, we were stuffed from the previous two courses, so the lack of choice didn’t really matter to us. In fact, my companion ended up taking home half the nachos and a good chunk of her wrap. They really do believe in healthy portions.

Overall, a great fast-food option in a buzzy area.

Valencia is rich with the kind of street art that adds so much to the visual appeal of Spanish cities. A few examples seen in July 2023…

**Passing through, the visitor mustn’t hold on too tight**

Superb vegan fare at Unity Diner – the Earthling Ed joint that puts its money where its mouth is

A picture of tofish and chips — **Wholesome fast food: Tofish and chips**

There’s a soul warmth to Unity Diner that hits you as soon as you walk in. Founded in Whitechapel, London, in September 2018 by a group of vegan activists who came together to form the campaign group Surge, the restaurant prides itself on its vibe, as well as its food. The welcome we received from the friendly staff on a recent visit one scorching Saturday afternoon, and the excellent fare, confirmed its excellent reputation.

It’s a bright modern diner and cocktail bar, and the menu has a fast-food feel to it, with small dishes including mozzarella sticks and sweet chilli calamari rings, larger portions such as lobster mac ’n’ cheese, and chicken kale Caesar salad, plus a hefty burger and dirty fries section. Some meals, such as the tofish and chips, are clearly signalled as plant based, but with much of the menu no effort has been made to change the more usual omnivore names. But yes, it’s fully vegan.

I had the tofish and chips, which was a real treat; light, crispy, melt-in-the-mouth batter coated a good-sized chunk of tofu, served with superbly plump chips. While it might present as fast food, it tasted as close to wholesome as this kind of meal can be. My companion spoke highly of her option – the healthier-sounding sweet chilli and lime prawn salad. I rounded it off with an oat latte and a slice of Black Forest cake, which was good, although more like a cheesecake in consistency than the name suggests. Eschewing dessert, my friend declared her pornstar martini a massive success.

A picture of vegan Black Forest cake — **Sweet treat: Black Forest cake**

Although I didn’t try it myself, an incredibly popular option at the diner was 3D printed Redefine Meat, of which there were several choices. These included a 3D printed filet mignon wrapped in streaky bacon and served with creamy confit jersey potatoes and a side of garlic greens. These are high-protein products made from various sources, including soya, wheat and pea.

The reviews I’ve read suggest this is the current crème de la crème of fake meat products, with a smell and a texture that’s almost too authentic for those who, like me, have that meaty flavour and mouthfeel so deeply associated with animal cruelty that it’s hard to unlink the two. At £26 for the steak, it is not cheap, although if you fancy just trying the concept out, Unity Diner offers a burger version at a more affordable £15. Something for another visit perhaps.

I’m not sure why it took me so long to get here. The reviews are great and the restaurant itself is run on a not-for-profit basis, with all money raised going to an associated animal sanctuary that opened at the end of 2022. Added to this, since I first heard Ed Winters, known as Earthling Ed and one of the founder members of Surge, speak at the charity’s animal rights rally in 2017 here in London, I’ve been a fan.

Earthling Ed at the Surge animal sanctuary

The videos that he’s posted online over the years, in which he calmly addresses the misconceptions and cognitive dissonance of everyday omnivores, are a study in how to guide people to their own conclusions about institutionalised animal abuse, rather than shove what can be perceived as the extremist ideas of veganism down their throats. Through his matter-of-fact comments, strangers are tripped over their own often poorly thought-through arguments about the importance of meat and the use of animals as commodities, and can become visibly baffled as to why they haven’t thought of these things before.

All straws, takeaway containers and coffee cups at Unity Diner are 100 per cent biodegradable and plastic free. Staff uniforms and merchandise are ethically made (no sweatshops!) with organic cotton and chemical-free vegan ink. And any suitable food waste from the restaurant is donated to be fed to animals who have been rescued from slaughter.

The food is great, served by staff who embody the philosophy of adding positivity to the world, and your money goes to creating a compassionate future for animals otherwise destined for the dinner plate. I’ll be paying another visit soon.

If you’re interested hearing more from Earthling Ed, his YouTube channel is full of thought-provoking interviews and clips.

A luxury vegan feast at Alexis Gauthier’s Soho dining room is truly an experience to savour

**Fondant large yellow onion cuit en croute**

There’s a reason why so few restaurants use white tablecloths nowadays. Mess. They require way too much manpower and effort to maintain that pristine standard between courses, let alone between diners.

And so between the second and third “meals” of my nine-course tasting menu at Gauthier Vegan Restaurant in Soho, London, I was – I believed surreptitiously – nudging some of the copious flaky specks of wild rocket pain feuillete from the white cloth to the deep carpeted floor, when I discovered a new level of fancy.

Out of nowhere, silently, efficiently and without judgment of my unsophisticated gobbling – or so I was assured – our young sommelier appeared with a long thin metal crumber. I’d never encountered such a tool before, but with a few subtle flicks over the table, it removed the detritus from the white cloth, and we were now ready for a terrine of smoked carrot, orange tarragon and pine oil. An equally flaky morsel, but this time I was confident enough not to bother with the discrete attempts to cover my tracks and relaxed into the feast.

Marinated 3-D “meat” served with potato and artichoke and a swirl

We had booked for the nine-course Grand Dîner, though however many times I counted on the menu, it added up to ten elaborately presented mini-meals.

The accomplished French chef Alexis Gauthier, who has been an occasional judge on BBC’s Masterchef since 2009, originally opened this restaurant in 2010. It served traditional French cuisine at that point, and within a year had achieved a Michelin star. Gauthier’s interest in vegetables and plant-based fine dining goes back more than 20 years, but even after going vegan himself in 2016, his Soho establishment continued to serve some meat dishes until 2021.

The restaurant consists of five rooms of varying sizes in what was originally a Georgian townhouse. Entry is by ringing the bell on an elegantly understated door. This feels special, like you are visiting an incredibly posh friend, or maybe that you are an invited guest at some exclusive dinner club.

Vacherin– strawberry and basil with elderflower jelly

Once inside, our dining room contained four other pairs of customers all ready for the £95-a-head banquet, with some opting to pay an extra £70 for wine pairing. After a very brief discussion – would we be leaving the restaurant standing after that amount of alcohol, and were our palates really refined enough to justify the cash? – we decided no to course-by-course wine. Instead we spread a glass of house red and a few jugs of tap water across the two-and-a-half hours it took to complete our repast.

The food was plentiful, flavoursome and tasty. We both enjoyed the elaborate and intricately pretty vegetable-based morsels, though my companion balked at the potato salad, saying she couldn’t place her finger on what was making it so sour.

And aside from the novelty factor, the “3D printed meat” wasn’t for me. It’s made using an alternative protein to print the ingredients layer-by-layer based on the structure of animal meat. It’s been more than 40 years since I gave up eating flesh and maybe this was just too unfamiliar and stringy a texture for me and too umami a flavour, but it was good to get a taste of one possible future for the artificial meat industry.

Petite fours– served on a bed of cacao nibs

I thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience. It felt very much like an event rather than your bog-standard night out, and, along with some amazing innovative flavour blends, that was enough for me.

I also loved the young staff who served us; po-faced and with an over-the-top seriousness, they described the opulent food they were placing before us in fantastically flowery and pompous language. It felt distinctly like we were all playing set roles in the fine-dining game, with an understood tongue-in-cheek humour behind it all (pssst, it’s only food)… though this could merely have been our own rather insecure sense that here was a place where we didn’t really quite belong.

For a cheaper, but still fancy Gauthier experience in London, try the vegan sushi or burgers in his family-friendly restaurant 123V in New Bond Street, Mayfair. Alternatively, you can sample the vegan French pastries or enjoy a bottomless salad bowl at the 123V Bakery within BFI Fitzrovia.

If you’re interested in knowing a bit more about what Alexis Gauthier does, the video below is a good introduction.

A Norfolk sanctuary for animals saved from the abuses of people

**A shire horse at the Hillside Shire Horse Sanctuary**

Strange bleats and whinnyings like I’ve never heard draw me towards a lush spring paddock. Scores of goats mill around munching grass, or chilling. They are not the bleaters. The peculiar noises come from a pair of long-necked, quiff-topped quadrupeds straight out of Dr Seuss… chasing each other from one side of their dandelion-speckled patch to the other, occasionally stopping to whack each other with their necks and tumble about for a few seconds: fighting… playing… mating? Who knows?

Certainly not this city boy who has rarely crossed paths with llamas – particularly not in England – and who took a few seconds to drop the Dr Seuss image and recognise them for what they were. They were on the far side of the Hillside Shire Horse Sanctuary at West Runton near Cromer on the Norfolk coast, and for me the most unexpected residents here. I went expecting shire horses but, in addition to the magnificent beasts for which the place is named, also saw cattle, goats, sheep, donkeys, pigs, roosters, turkeys, those llamas and, perhaps even weirder (to my eye at least), alpacas.

All these creatures have some kind of story related to the abuses of the farming industry or simply of human carers who failed to care. Here, though, thanks to the dedicated efforts of the volunteers who run the Hillside Animal Sanctuary, they have peace and indeed sanctuary ([noun] refuge or safety from pursuit, persecution, or other danger).

**A trio of alpacas at Hillside Shire Horse Sanctuary**

The sanctuary is the public face of the organisation, and is billed widely as a tourist attraction in the area. There were plenty of visitors on the day I went, enjoying the opportunity for close encounters with the animals in settings immaculately maintained and tended by the volunteers. But while it is indeed a lovely place to spend an hour or two simply for the sake of it, it also promotes a strong vegan message highlighting the cruelty of much of the farming industry. This is done so subtly via little labels here and there that you could almost miss it. The small cafe also offers only vegan snacks.

The combined effect of the non-preachy educational material and the presence of so many well looked-after creatures, many saved from horrendous fates, underlines the fact that these are sentient beings and not food. I doubt everyone who walks out the gate at the end of their visit will become an instant vegan, but enough seeds will have been planted to inspire at least a little questioning and perhaps further investigation.

This video, produced with footage from Hillside Animal Sanctuary’s investigations unit, has a good ending in that a creature ends up with a decent life. It does, however, contain some harrowing scenes along the way; not slaughtering or anything like that, simply the dreadful conditions animals have to endure in the agricultural industry.

The Hillside Animal Sanctuary also has an investigation unit whose undercover filming helps to expose cruelty on farms. It has a real impact, for example inspiring the supermarket chain Waitrose to change a supplier. These videos are also excellent educational resources for anyone who might be interested in knowing how their meat and dairy produce are made. But it’s a long-term mission, because the agriculture industry is more interested in the money it makes than the wellbeing of the creatures it abuses to make it. As Wendy Valentine, who founded Hillside Animal Sanctuary after seeing how battery hens are farmed, says: “The farms are protected, not the animals.”

If you find yourself in the area, and you like animals, a visit to the sanctuary – whose patron is the actor Martin Shaw – is well worth making. The place is funded wholly by donations, and if you’re interested you can help in various ways, for example by adopting a rescued animal or contributing some money; there is information about this here.