Editor’s letter
One of the things I missed most during lockdown was an afternoon at the pub. Long Sunday lunches spent solving the world’s problems and laughing away your own. The first time I went to Sydney’s Old Fitzroy Hotel was one of those afternoons. It came just two weeks after my husband and I had moved to Australia last year, when our friend Will arrived on our doorstep, ready to show us something special. His friend Nik Hill had taken over the kitchen earlier in the year and was reinventing the historic hotel as Sydney’s home of English pub classics. Knowing my husband’s love of a good pint and my exacting standards when it comes to a Scotch egg, Will was certain we would love The Fitz. He wasn’t wrong. When it…