I remember having my first meat plank in the Oxford restaurant — the first to open — in 2008. It was next door to the pub I was working at, so we went in almost immediately and were treated wonderfully because there’s always an understanding among hospitality workers. The cured Italian meats, folded on top of a slab of rustic wood, this sitting on two cans of chopped tomatoes, were worth £6.50. And the menu was littered with Oliverisms: the “world’s best olives”, Jamie’s “music bread”, a “Catherine wheel sausage” that arrived on top of Parmesan and mushroom polenta.
