Sticky Fingers, Kensington
Phwoaaar, what’s this? Ribs, chips, onion rings, salad, slaw and … a sausage. Let it not be said that a girl of five foot nothing cannot contain such a feast within her slender frame. My revelation that I would be attempting to order the Beggar’s Banquet drew gasps from around the table, yet no less than five other people followed suit. The meat was well cooked but not as tender as I had hoped. The sausage I could easily have sent packing. The restaurant itself is decked out in an American classic rock style with various booths for diners, rock paraphernalia, even electric guitars. For cheap and cheerful barbecued meats, Sticky Fingers is the place to go.
I am one of those people who takes pictures of their food. I also like consuming an extremely large amount of the stuff. Resident of Clapham (and previously Kensal), I have lived here all my life and can proudly call myself a bona fide Londoner. Most of my disposable income goes towards restaurants and markets. I have a disease which causes all willpower to disintegrate as soon as I see any consumable food source. I become hungry when someone says, 'Have you had dinner?' I need help.
