Oxford's biggest student newspaper, produced by and for members of the University of Oxford, since 1991.
Every time I see the poster for The Phantom of The Opera, I think of ghosts. But this one wears no mask, or if he does, it is made of glass. If he haunts, it is not some Parisian theater, but my phone. I never needed Tinder before Oxford. I lived in Paris, and was fine […]
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If fast-food wasn’t fast enough, we’ve made it even faster, by reducing the number of outlets you need to consider when deciding where to grab your quick culinary fix. You can thank me later. Pret A Manger: Whilst technically not ‘fast-food’, it’s easy, convenient food in the centre of Oxford (two on the same street!) […]
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Broccoli Couscous, Courgetti, Carrot Pasta, Cauliflower Rice… are these new, indie bands playing at Cellar? Code names for rugby? No, these terms define the new fad for replacing heavy carb staples such as pasta and couscous… with vegetables. Advanced notice: I also apologise for the overload of spiralizing puns in this article, terrible really. How […]
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Whilst not strictly ‘food’, there does exist an incredible bond between the food we eat, how we prepare it and where we prepare it. So whilst this may seem obvious, sometimes, when establishing a base to prepare food – more commonly known as a ‘kitchen’, or in less frivolous colleges ‘kitchenettes’ or even worse: a […]
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An impractical examination of the postcolonial narrative of identity politics Whenever I hear anyone laughingly remark, “It’s such a small world, isn’t it?” I always put aside my Crunchy Nut cornflakes, copy of The Beano, or absorbing Radio 4 Podcast to interrupt and say, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so shut up.” After […]
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There’s a party in my mouth and only one genre of music is playing. Also no-one else is invited, that would be disgusting. Jamie Oliver’s would be the 1905 Revolution in comparison with this bona fide Bolshevik Uprising in the fruit bowl. When the Frankensteinian fruit scientists of New Zealand put a Braeburn to stud […]
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My kitchen in college measures two metres by one metre, barely enough room to swing a decent sized rodent, let alone a cat. With ten undergraduates desperate to make toast and swing cats, the situation is somewhat problematic. I, for one, can’t stand feeling chivvied when I’m chopping chives, or being kettled when I’m just […]
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