White Mice for Breakfast

"O mischief, thou art swift to enter in the thoughts of desperate men!"

Morsels in the Metropolis May 1, 2010

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


Eclectic, economical, effervescent... NYSB deserves all the e-headed superlatives in the world. Wondrously homely vegetarian, vegan or carnivore food with Brazilian flair! One word: CHEESE BREADS.

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:

Delectable Bruschetta...

Tantalizing tartlets, CHEESE BREAD IN A BASKET

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…


also renowned for a pond'rous selection of fresh organic MUFFINS.

PAM's hand holding her 'fro yo'; what delightful slang emerges from the streets these days. I must tell Leavis.

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:


Princi, like its Milanese counterpart, also sells fresh wood-fired pizza and organic bread! AND CAKES, MANY CAKES.

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!

Esther. xxx


Apéritif January 20, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — theotherhand @ 12:34 am
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

After developing a nasty habit of becoming addicted to several food blogs, I have decided to start my own; more to relieve the tension of looking at so many pictures of food, than to compete in any way with the genius of sites such as Foodporndaily, Pinch My Salt and Ezra Pound Cake. (I find this last name endlessly funny… please, bear with me)

To clarify, I love food. Perhaps a bit too much, hence the ‘desperate thoughts’ courtesy of Shakey: in my imagination, I eat the illegal foods. Like guilty online shopping, putting items in the basket with no intention of buying them, I linger wistfully in the cheese section, I have graphic fantasies about indulging in almond croissants, berry cheesecakes, chocolate berliners; I spread vivid mental feasts – goats cheese, tapenade, baguette, ciabatta, salted Normandy butter, oven roasted tomatoes and risottos full of cream and Gruyère – on imaginary Sicilian terraces…

…and get a bit overexcited.

In reality, unless I want to look like sea lion, I have to curb the deliciousness.

Welcome to the land of nom. Try not to drool on the keyboard.

Esther xxx