Spring seems to be settling in and that’s great, but I have been recently reminded of one of its worst bits: not hay fever or wrong coat season, but the absolute indignity of alfresco eating.

I usually avoid eating outside; it’s fraught with dangers, from the stress position that is “sitting on picnic blanket” to seagull attack. But last week, giddy with the warm weather and leaving my sordid home office to come to London, my better judgment deserted me. I had one goal: I would treat........

© The Guardian