Years ago, a friend was so taken with a restaurant in San Francisco that she ate dinner there for a week. I frequent restaurants less than most people I know and never order takeaway, but when I eat out, I am prone to a similar hyper-loyalty. When I lived in London in the early 2000s, I ate once a week at Yotam Ottolenghi’s original six-seater kitchen in London’s Notting Hill, and very frequently at Brett Graham’s The Ledbury down the road from it. In Hong Kong, I returned time and again to Olivier Elzer’s daring French cooking with Asian influences

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