Fandom is a tricky thing. It’s easy to lose perspective; to come across as obsessive or even a bit creepy. That is why we’re grateful it’s been a whole week since we visited The Palomar, because it has allowed us to breathe, calm down, and regain some of our composure. But even now, breath caught, seven-course tasting menu digested and cheeks blush subsided, we are completely and excessively obsessed with this restaurant. The main dining room is now booked out 10 weeks in advance, thankfully the kitchen bar is open to walk-ins and is very much the place to be. The chefs laugh and joke with the customers, sharing out shots of grapefruit vodka and indulging in occasional drum solos on the array of suspended saucepans over the bar. The service is fast but never rushed and every server takes the time to pause a moment and discuss the dishes with the customers. The food itself is almost peerless. From the first serving of tuna carpaccio to the last scrape of chocolate cremeux from the desert platter, we were left utterly speechless and almost uncomfortably full. Special mention must go to the steak cake with foie gras de canard for sheer opulence, frankly you haven’t lived until you’ve licked the plate clean. Stick a fork it in, it’s done; this is the opening of the summer.