This week dear feuilletines, I will expound upon COMESTIBLES in the CAPITAL, MORSELS in the METROPOLIS.
Yes, crumpet followers! Last week, I, Esther, ventured off my colonial porch and bravely sallied forth into the bright lights of LONDON TOWN. And it was indeed a pleasant experience! I had not ventured into town since Leavis’s rather embarrassing fight with one of those tall hatted fellows at Buckingham Palace, but was pleased to see that so many of my old stomping grounds were still doing a roaring, nay, foaming at the mouth trade! I was delighted to exhibit these diverting delicatessens, these emporiums of the edible to my learned compatriots, Geraldine Punnington and Pamela Vatrue, hereafter named as Gerald and PAM.
(Gerald, PAM and myself were coincidentally celebrating the completion of academic projects; myself for the newly finished Humbug Compendium, Gerald for a new chapter in her Complete Pun Dictionary entitled ‘Early Modern Effluvium’, and PAM an epistolary follow-up to her wildly successful, Whitney, My Love.)
And to my toothsome JOY, dear kastanjes, that we were also joined by an old and very dear comrade from my colourful past, the mysterious Zucre d’Churros…
But more of that later! Quell your cravings and salivations and be assured that I shall introduce the first petiterie without further dilly dally:
The most ergonomic NEAL’S YARD SALAD BAR
Dear, dear pikletings, I almost fear to speak of this hidden gem for fear of it being overrun with E.C. supporters; so if you must swarm, please swarm sedately, in pairs and at a genteel pace. Here are some pictures taken on my photom-a-graph:
Secondly, if you are partial to yoghurt of the frozen variety in a myriad of flavours and colours, then this hidden titbit just off Covent Garden purveys the most delightful kind…
I know, succulent readers, you are wondering when I shall elaborate on the tantalizing reference to my mysterious friend, Zucre d’Churros… well that moment is now! Walking through London, I was delighted to receive a telegram from my old acquaintance, and we hurried back to Cov Gar in order to meet her! Zucre has spent the past few years engaged in enigmatic and recondite activities in Iberian countries, and so it was delightful to be re-united. I am also eternally grateful to her for introducing your favourite food writer to a HAVEN, a FIRMAMENT of Italian delights, by the name of:
Sadly, my croquettines, the cakes were of such interest and delectation, that their existence was too fleeting to capture in a photograph. But, be assured they were as scrumptious as Zuchre foretold.
Thus concludes this week’s gastronomic revelry, E.C. followers! Do pay attention for next week’s adventures featuring your own Esther, Leavis and of course, the diabolic Barthes.
Chow until supper!