Nestled at the top end of Cuba Street is a quaint little restaurant called Arthur’s. For those not in the know, Arthur’s is the more masculine equivalent of the very feminine Martha’s Pantry (which I wrote a short blog post on about a year – or two ago). I have been to Arthur’s twice since I moved to Wellington and loved my experience there on both occasions. However, even though I keep telling myself to return and have a meal again, I never really got to it – at least not until this evening.
