The cafe
Is very small. Few tables, crowded into
the little space there is. Raining and cold outside, there was steam
on the windows and just a handful of Saturday morning punters in for
a late breakfast. The tables had blue check plastic tablecloths, red
pillar box cruets, squeezy plastic red and brown sauce bottles, and
the chairs were bit of a random mix. There were black and white
London landmark photos on the walls and one of Wrighty and Thierry at
Highbury. Just to prove the owner's heart is in the right place. I
have, somewhere where you'd never imagine it, nipped starving into a
chippie with a signed photo of Phil Tuffnel endorsing their grub.
That gave me great confidence. I imagine Tuffers to be a good judge
of a chippie.
The food was fine. A good cafe
barometer is the standard and presentation of a vegetarian breakfast,
and the presence or absence of large plates three quarters covered in
a single-bean deep layer of baked beans.
Nice way to start the day.
The buchers
Gordon Ramsey's favourite sausages, and
some chicken wings. Quick chat about the weather, and the popularity
of the sausages (there were only three left). Real, large wings.
Complete wings, with tips for making stock. I've heard complaints
about them chopping and cutting all sorts of meat on the same block.
Yeah, guys. Just because the supermarket does it all behind the
scenes and presents sterile product clingfilmed into polystyrene
trays, does anyone believe they do anything different? I bet sales of
Imodium and Gaviscon and days lost to stomach bugs would fall
drastically were people to go back to shopping at real buchers.
The grocers
I was short on cash after breakfast,
the cricket club AGM last night and the buchers, and had to negotiate
the bag down by one head of broccoli and four vine tomatoes.
The Arsenal
Again fantastic news at the bank.
Rubbish on the pitch. Enough's enough. Look at the boss. We've got
the Michelin Man in charge.
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