I have a quick wander over there sometimes. It seems to have an effect upon me. I come away convinced that I don't want to belong to any club that would have me as a member. And what's that forum where they get together for wine and cheese and take pictures of one another's shoes? I wouldn't mind having a coffee with Chris, GG or most of the guys on here at Bar Italia; but photographing shoes... mm...
(Or a cup of tea with Kingstonian at a caff of his choosing).
(Rubs hands in erotic anticipation)...
Do you know 'Bubble And Squeak', Quay? 'Toad In The Hole'?
Oh, yes! Rather like both as well. I think they all belong to the sort of food known as "stodge," don't they? (I try to keep up with these things, I really do.)
Stodge, yes; but we're better off in England than we used to be. A book I have, published in 1928, speaks of food in an English resturant being served 'more in anger than sorrow'. Orwell was very good on this subject: in 'Keep The Aspidestra Flying' for example. He liked his roast beef very rare and ate eels that his wife had meant for their cat. Roast lamb with mint sauce is still my Sunday favourite; and my wife makes 'crumble'.
Another Russell blogs on cafes http://russelldavies.typepad.com/eggbaconchipsandbeans/
Andrews :- http://russelldavies.typepad.com/ateaandathink/2007/03/andrews_restaur.html
One of my favourite cafes in London is the Broadway Cafe opposite St James's Park tube station. It been there for decades and still has the original tables. The omelettes are particularly good and the prices are very reasonable for the location.
I like the Stockpot. But it's weird.
The Eden cafe ? Is that on the opposite side of the road on the corner ? There is kebab place and a baked potato place and the tool shop and Beggars Banquet vinyl records. Eden Street is all dug up at the moment because of gas main repairs. It plays havoc with the bus stops.
There is a Polish cafe in the Old London Road that I have not yet been into. Sutton is better for caffs though.
Spends a lot of time in Burmese Days complaining about burmese food. his idea of good food seemed to consist entirely of gray, boiled meat and gray, boiled things other than meat. The scene with the cockroach-infested pile of tripe (a blackbeetle is a cockroach, snt it?) in the road to wigan pier is particularly memorable.