When a place calls itself Eat, perhaps that’s, y’know, a kind of subtle hint that the emphasis isn’t on the wine list.
Be that as it may. Defying corporate nomenclature, I decided to put Eat’s wine selection to the test — with characteristic ruthlessness.
Be warned: there are scenes in the following post that readers of a sensitive disposition may find upsetting.
You can read the story of the whole desperate, sorry experience in my guest post across at eVines. Here’s the link.