With its glaring lights, heaps of trash, and deserted vendor spots, you might mistake this scene for a hidden alleyway bazaar rather than the heart of London’s much-hyped holiday attraction.

When Toby Inskip, a leading British food influencer, unveiled his plan for a Christmas market on Tottenham Court Road, his 2.1 million followers across Instagram and TikTok were thrilled.

Known online as Eating with Tod, Inskip shared enticing videos showcasing the delectable offerings that visitors could anticipate, boasting of ‘real food’ crafted by ‘real chefs’.

However, the actual experience at Tod’s Festive Feast appears to fall short of the polished portrayal these videos promised.

Disappointed fans have voiced their frustrations, pointing out that the market is both too crowded and excessively priced.

Tod, 30, is in the firing line for his alleged attempts to cash in on his popularity. Critics say he is focusing more on padding his bank account than creating a quality, high-end experience for visitors.

And sources now tell me the social-media sensation has become increasingly hooked on cash, with his authenticity going out the window.

After touring London’s usual Christmas markets, Tod claimed to be frustrated by the bland, uninspired offerings and decided to do it himself.

Toby Inskip has soared to social-media fame since lockdown through his restaurant reviews

The food influencer has launched a Christmas food festival via his Eating With Tod social media pages

The event, known as Tod’s Festive Feast, is located on central London’s Tottenham Court Road

He has secured 13 TikTok viral vendors including Roll Boys (cinnamon buns), From The Ashes BBQ and Bread Ahead Bakery.

Prices range from £6 for a cinnamon bun to £13 for a burger.

Queues snake around the stalls, some of which reportedly close early in the evenings. The bright, harsh lights have been described as overwhelming, making the market feel chaotic rather than cosy. When I visit, piles of rubbish are noticeable, too – as is the lack of seating, leaving hungry spectators to stand while they eat.

There is also one unoccupied stall. ‘We don’t know if it will be filled,’ one vendor tells me.

Social-media users were quick to note the irony: a Christmas market with very little festive atmosphere.

One attendee vented: ‘Roll Boys wasn’t even open, and that’s the reason I came. Honestly, it was a disappointment.’

Another wrote: ‘That’s a lot of American food at a London festival… so no actual British food?’

Such reactions seem to echo the broader criticism of Tod’s career. Fans and insiders alike have long debated whether his endorsements are ever truly unbiased.

Known online as the ‘ginger James Corden of food reviewers’ for his not-always-popular style, he first gained attention during lockdown with his ‘If you can’t take a date, take a mate’ series. In the show, Tod would visit and review restaurants across the country.

Having attended the £18,000-a-year private school Princethorpe College in Rugby, he went on to study planning and development at Nottingham Trent University.

He was working at a consultancy firm when he began to share London restaurant reviews and food content on social media.

Since rising to fame, Tod has engaged with the likes of McDonald’s, Mexican chain Tortilla, Tabasco hot sauce and Gordon Ramsay Street Pizza.

He has also launched businesses such as Gobble PR, a public relations company which had more than £300,000 in its accounts as of July 2024, and food manufacturing firm T & M Munchies.

Tod has also released a merchandise range, selling caps and T-shirts from £25, and collaborated with other businesses to create food festivals.

He also co-founded a BBQ festival in London called FUME last year – which will be back again in 2026 – with tickets costing £37.50.

As well as his own Christmas market, he worked with another food festival in Woolwich called Wing Wonderland, which charged £26 for admission.

Rumours about the fees he commands for his sponsored content, around £1,000 per video according to some, have swirled for some time – though sources tell me the real figure is much higher.

Fans credit him with saving struggling small businesses; a struggling taco restaurant in Bishop Stortford saw queues spilling out the door days after Tod posted about it online.

Yet, as sources tell me, Tod has become increasingly focused on money, leading some to question whether the UK’s most prominent food influencer is losing his authenticity.

One tells me: ‘He’s not well-liked in the industry. He charges a fortune now he’s famous, and his content has become un-authentic. That’s why now only huge brands work with him. He will be making a fortune from this market, raking it in.’

Another insider described his approach to reviewing restaurants as ‘incredibly sneaky’ and that ‘no one trusts a single review he puts on the internet’ because everywhere he visits is supposedly ‘the best’.

‘Nowhere is ever bad. It’s well known that he takes money for his reviews,’ they tell me.

And this isn’t the first time Tod’s work has drawn a backlash.

He has faced criticism for not clearly disclosing when content is sponsored. Fans have accused him of making paid promotions look like spontaneous, authentic visits.

Another infamous stunt involved Tod parading a live crab in front of cameras, which Michelin-starred chef Alexis Gauthier described as ‘disgusting’ and ‘nothing to be proud of.’

Tod showed himself picking up the 19lbs crustacean from a tank, before filming it being deep fried and smothered in chilli sauce for him to eat.

One viewer commented: ‘Yes people eat chicken and beef. But you don’t slaughter and kill them live in front of you? Maybe you start filming that too and posting it? Unfollowing.’

He has also attracted criticism for a sponsored video with McDonald’s in April 2024, in which he visited one of their factories and praised their beef patties.

One viewer asked: ‘How much did they pay you?’

‘Loved your content until I saw this. Don’t forget why you started,’ another said.

He hit back at the time.

‘I run this page as my full-time job, whilst I would love to support every small business under the sun, it would mean I would need to work full time, content would be restricted and ultimately I wouldn’t be able to shine a light on so many as I do.

‘There will be brand deals I feature… some you may love, some you may not love.’

The influencer has also been accused of ‘rage baiting’ – publishing online content deliberately designed to elicit anger to create more engagement, driving up revenues.

Followers claim he deliberately misnames dishes and places to provoke angry comments and boost engagement. This is a tactic he has reportedly discussed in content creation workshops.

His table manners have also been a topic of discussion. Tod was told by followers that he had ‘no class’ after visiting The Ritz’s two-Michelin star restaurant.

After tucking into a £221 seven-course tasting menu, he licked his plate and said: ‘Every bite literally booted my tastebuds for six. I was not wasting anything. Who needs a dishwasher when the food tastes this good?’

One comment read: ‘Sorry, but you have no class here. Licking the plate at such a high-class restaurant is totally uncalled for. No respect.’

Now with his name on every fake-snow-topped chalet in Tottenham Court Road until December 28, Tod’s Festive Feast feels less of a celebration of food and more proof of how far he has drifted from the cheeky chap everyone fell in love with in lockdown.

Because for all his talk about his passion for food, one thing is certain; the only thing Tod might love more is the money that comes with it.

And judging by the industry and followers’ reaction online, it is leaving a sour taste in many people’s mouths.