After nearly 24 hours in the Kenya Airways Bermuda triangle, and nearly as long on the circle line to Euston, I finally surfaced blinking in the sunlight in London. Too late for a dash down to Canteen on the South Bank for a breakfast, I had something generic and utterly forgettable in a place called 'Eat'. The name of the place sums it up really doesn't it? Somebody should open up a shop and simply call it 'Shop', or 'Buy', and sell really generic, slightly rubbish things. A bit like Muji.
John Lewis for a new suit and a few bits and pieces, and out of curiosity I thought I'd nip to the basement food hall to see if they might have some choice pickings for a picnic lunch in Finsbury Circus with my oldest friend. I didn't realise quite how dangerous it would be until I found myself standing in the cheese area staring into the middle distance, just breathing in the cheese. Its been a long time.
Lincolnshire poacher was procured, nice and crumbly, cut into picnic sized chunks by a friendly woman at the cheese counter. Luckily she did it swiftly as she might have returned to the till to find me with my mouth stuffed with Idiazabal, and Barkham blue all over my chin, looking both anguished and sheepish. What else..? Potted Shrimps from Morcambe where an absolute buttery delight, posh bread, smoked Scottish salmon, plums, apricots, a 500ml bottle of Beaujolais, and some pork and pickle pies as requested by my friend. The pies came from Marks and Spencers, where I had to snatch the last packet before other marauding picnickers got to them.
Don't let me go into that shop unsupervised again.
John Lewis for a new suit and a few bits and pieces, and out of curiosity I thought I'd nip to the basement food hall to see if they might have some choice pickings for a picnic lunch in Finsbury Circus with my oldest friend. I didn't realise quite how dangerous it would be until I found myself standing in the cheese area staring into the middle distance, just breathing in the cheese. Its been a long time.
Lincolnshire poacher was procured, nice and crumbly, cut into picnic sized chunks by a friendly woman at the cheese counter. Luckily she did it swiftly as she might have returned to the till to find me with my mouth stuffed with Idiazabal, and Barkham blue all over my chin, looking both anguished and sheepish. What else..? Potted Shrimps from Morcambe where an absolute buttery delight, posh bread, smoked Scottish salmon, plums, apricots, a 500ml bottle of Beaujolais, and some pork and pickle pies as requested by my friend. The pies came from Marks and Spencers, where I had to snatch the last packet before other marauding picnickers got to them.
Don't let me go into that shop unsupervised again.
At our picnic, my friend told me about spending hours in John Lewis with his fiance choosing flatware for their wedding list. We were both a bit surprised that we knew quite so much about flatware and cutlery. Not only that, but I'd actually stopped to browse the flatware selection on the way to the food hall. I'm a bit of a traditionalist, prefering a heavy English design with a French style edge on the knife, whereas I think he's modern-traditional...
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