The Go To Food Podcast

The Go-To Food Podcast, brought to you by Blinq, the UK company revolutionising the POS game, and today we are joined by a man who has lived about five careers in one life. From scaffolder to delivery driver, chef to publican, and now the force behind two of London’s most-loved neighbourhood landmarks: The Plimsoll and Tollington’s Fish Bar. Ed McIlroy is funny, blunt, properly self-aware, and, crucially, he is building places that feel like they belong to the city, not the trend cycle.This episode starts with a tease that will have every North Londoner leaning in: a new opening is coming, and soon. Ed gives just enough away to be dangerous, but what follows is even better, a sharp take on originality, why design and personality matter more than “owning” a dish, and how he looks further afield for inspiration without playing copycat down the road. If you have ever rolled your eyes at another identikit “minimal” restaurant, his rant alone is worth the listen.Then it gets properly good: Ed explains how the Plimsoll burger went viral, why he is totally unbothered by internet backlash, and what it really means to run restaurants as a business. He talks candidly about money, margins, dishwashers breaking, and the bizarre shame people project onto hospitality owners for admitting they need to make profit to survive. There is also the legendary influencer story, the police station address, the morale boost, and the moment it all kicked off online.And underneath all the jokes is a serious blueprint for modern hospitality: build local, earn trust, offer value, and make people feel looked after. Ed talks about why pubs feel warmer than restaurants, why service is about to matter more than ever, and why he would rather open a dingy late-licence dive bar than chase Soho rent. If you care about restaurants, running a business, or just want to understand how London’s best neighbourhood spots actually happen, this is one you will fly through.

Joe Otway has built one of the most exciting restaurant groups in the country, and in this episode he tells the full story, properly. From Brighton to Manchester by way of Cape Town, New York, San Francisco and Copenhagen, Joe charts the long, obsessive road that led to Higher Ground, Bar Shrimp and Flawd. We meet him fresh off national recognition and immediately get into what really matters: not lists, not PR, but full dining rooms and food that actually moves people.At the heart of the conversation is Higher Ground’s farm-led philosophy. Joe explains how Cinderwood Market Garden shapes everything, from baby cabbages grilled hours after picking to a cheddar tart that’s never left the menu. He talks candidly about putting offal ragu on the menu, expecting guests to run a mile, and instead watching the North embrace it. It’s serious cooking without the theatre, light-hearted on the surface but absolutely ruthless underneath.The origin story is wild. Joe and his partners meet at Dan Barber’s Blue Hill at Stone Barns, get snowed in during a historic freeze, and decide they are going to build something together. What follows is an education in chaos and intuition: farm chores, goose slaughter, no written menus, thirty-five dish services changing daily. He then stages at Benu just before it wins its third star, learns brutal discipline in an Indian kitchen back in Brighton, and eventually lands in Copenhagen at Relæ, where the four-day week model reshapes how he thinks about leadership and life in restaurants.Along the way there are smashed windows in Copenhagen, racist guests thrown out in Cape Town, bike thieves, nightmare services, and a brutally honest take on chasing accolades in modern hospitality. We finish with Joe’s ultimate three-course meal, from cockles on Brighton beach to chicken biryani and rhubarb and custard, and a glimpse at what might come next: a Manchester deli and farm shop to rival anything in London. It’s funny, sharp and properly revealing, and if you care about where British food is heading, this is one you need to hear.

From washing pots in Cumbria to cooking at The Square, Hof van Cleve and Geranium, and winning the Roux Scholarship along the way, Tom Barnes has taken the long road to the top. In this episode, he reflects on patience, loyalty and why not rushing your career can still lead you to the very highest level. It’s a rare, honest look at what two decades in elite kitchens actually teaches you, long before you ever open your own restaurant.That journey now culminates at SKOF, one of only two Michelin-starred restaurants in Manchester. Tom talks about opening the restaurant he always wanted to eat in, celebrating his first star with a no-frills Chinatown Chinese, and designing an experience that feels warm, fast-moving and generous rather than formal or intimidating. From hot broths arriving within minutes to a dining room full of return guests, SKOF is built around instinct, rhythm and pleasure.We get deep into the detail. Why there are three menus. How a 17-course tasting can still feel light and brisk. Why there’s no such thing as a filler dish. Tom breaks down blending their own beer, structuring services so guests are never left waiting, and hiding a confit duck leg inside bread because great food should still have moments of joy and surprise.The episode finishes on something deeply personal. Tom shares the story behind Barney’s tiramisu, a dessert he still makes exactly as he once did for his dad, now served as a quiet tribute at the end of the meal. Add in football chat, non-alcoholic pairings done properly, hot towels, frozen plates and a city finally getting the food scene it deserves, and this is a conversation that shows how the long way round can be the right way.

David Carter does not do the neat, pre-packaged rise. In this episode, he takes us from a childhood shaped by Barbados heat and roadside grills, through Toronto and LA, into London kitchens where the stakes were real and the pressure unforgiving. He talks candidly about cutting his teeth at Gordon Ramsay at Claridge's, realising hotel life was never going to satisfy him, and why layers of process can kill creativity stone dead. It is a sharp, funny look at how those early years formed his instincts, his impatience with bullshit, and his obsession with food that feels alive.From there, the conversation opens up into the brutal reality of building something from nothing. David relives the years of juggling failing cafés, overnight smoking shifts, 4am meat-market runs and festival chaos that eventually became Smokestak. He talks honestly about being stretched to breaking point, why “washing its face” can still drag you under, and how chasing too many ideas at once nearly sank him. There are big lessons here about focus, knowing when to let something go, and why making one thing excellent beats doing five things badly every single time.Finally, David unpacks the thinking behind Manteca, Agora and Michelin-starred Oma. From why fire is non-negotiable in his kitchens, to how queues, bread, price points and design quietly create “vibe”, this is a masterclass in building restaurants people actually want to be in. He explains why the Michelin star was never the goal, why nothing changed when it arrived, and why excellence, generosity and energy still matter more than any accolade. Presented by Blinq, this is one of those episodes that will change how you think about food, leadership and what success really looks like.

From ballet dancer and Billy Elliot hopeful to Michelin-starred chef, Michael O’Hare’s journey is anything but conventional. In this episode of The Go-To Food Podcast, Michael traces his path from Middlesbrough to the top of British fine dining via aerospace engineering, Jamie Oliver cookbooks, formative kitchen years and time spent at Noma, before blowing the doors off the scene with The Man Behind the Curtain. It’s a story shaped as much by instinct and curiosity as by rebellion against tradition.Michael speaks candidly about what success really costs. He breaks down the brutal economics of Michelin-starred restaurants, the impossible margins, the pressure to keep raising prices, and the moment he realised that even full dining rooms no longer meant financial survival. For the first time in detail, he explains the HMRC debt that followed the closure of his restaurants, how his wages became reframed as loans, and what it actually means to “go bankrupt” in modern hospitality. It’s a rare, unfiltered look behind the headlines.Beyond the business, Michael unpacks his philosophy on food and creativity. He rails against homogenisation in restaurants, arguing that haute cuisine has slipped into fast-fashion thinking, where identity is lost and trends are copied plate for plate. He challenges ideas around seasonality, menu poetry and performative complexity, and tells the stories behind some of his most infamous dishes, from raw prawns and potato custard to why a “tikka prawn” can be more honest than something that looks clever on paper.The conversation moves effortlessly between the serious and the absurd: chaotic kitchen stories, onion-ring addictions, shower cups of tea, the strangest customers he’s ever faced, and why he believes restaurants should feel more like homes than institutions. We also hear about his new chapter, a radically intimate restaurant built around balance, control and cooking purely for joy. Funny, fierce and deeply human, this is Michael O’Hare as you’ve never heard him before.

Carl Clarke is the sort of guest who makes you pause mid-intro and think: how is one person allowed to have this much life on a CV? DJ, chef, author, filmmaker, raver, and yes, a full-blown chicken deity, Carl has lived about six parallel careers, usually at the same time, often on zero sleep, and always with a story that somehow gets even more unhinged as it goes on. Carl takes us from a 15-year-old runaway with £200 and a half-baked plan for France that accidentally ends in Jersey, to the brutal, hilarious reality of old-school hotel kitchens (including a banquet tale involving a missing blue plaster that you will not forget). From there it is trench-foot potato prep, the Marines, and a world suddenly cracked open: ships, Florida, discipline, trouble, and the kind of hard-won perspective you only get when you have been dropped into the deep end repeatedly and survived.Then comes the rave years: Turnmills, illegal parties, global gigs, and a Buenos Aires night so surreal Maradona is literally standing behind the decks while Carl is stretching out Donna Summer like a religious experience. And just when you think he will stay in the chaos, he swerves back into kitchens because he cannot help himself. Marco. Fear. Perfectionism. The cold larder. The kind of intensity that makes you laugh while you are quietly grateful you are not the one on the pass.From there, the stories go truly international: Dublin’s Clarence during its moment, improvised custard hacks that somehow impress the right people, Harvey Nichols in Istanbul, envelope-thick cash, and the kind of hospitality madness you only hear from someone who has actually been there, lived it, and can tell it with zero varnish. And threaded through it all is the thing Carl does better than almost anyone: taking serious technique and turning it into food people really want, paving the way for the pop-up boom and ultimately giving London Chicken Shop royalty in Chick ’n’ Sours and Chicken Shop. Strap in, because this one is a ride.