They say you should never meet your heroes. I'd go one further and say you should never find out their culinary tastes. It can lead to crushing disappointment.
Rik Mayall is my hero (OK I've got a lot of heroes, but there's articles reserved for Bowie, former BBC controller Alan Yentob and Zippy from Rainbow for later on).
I grew up on repeats of the 'Young Ones', his 'Jackanory' recounting of 'George's Marvellous Medicine' (so good he filmed it twice!), watched 'Bottom' on repeat and even quite enjoyed his Nintendo adverts.
Much of my working (hence adult life) has been spent in Soho, where the only thing you're more likely to see than overweight pigeons trying to rip off tourist's food is actors from stage and screen. I was lucky enough to pass by Mr Mayall twice.
The second occasion he was having lunch with a colleague (maybe his agent?) in a pigeon-infested Soho square, and whilst animatedly chatting to said colleague was chowing down on some form of sandwich.
Spying this sandwich, my heart sank.
This thin, lifeless foodstuff looked like something he had just grabbed from the nearby Tescos express (re-heated mystery meat drowned in sauce with about as much taste as Peter Stringfellow at a Bingo night).
What about the nearby wonderous focaccias and ciabatta's of the near legendary Make Mine deli? The much missed veggie burgers of Red Veg, or the delicious falafel's of Maoz?
Nope - Rik plumped for something along these lines:
There are many great places to eat in Soho. Just don't consult any 80s comedy legends before trying one out.