Alasdair and I haven’t managed a proper catch up with Fauzy and Helen for a while, so we find time for a late Sunday afternoon drink at Small Bar. The quick drink turns into a less quick drink, and eventually it becomes prudent to eat some food alongside it, so I treat myself to my old favourite of the loaded fries - a generous portion of fried chicken sliced on top of a generous portion of fries, topped with cheese, and their delicious gravy. What a dream. It’s so bad for me, but it’s so good. It’s maybe the best fried chicken in Bristol, and I think a large part of the appeal is that unlike a lot of loaded fries, it is a proper amount of chicken - the main attraction, rather than the fries. It soaks up some 2/3rds and that’s enough for me.