Foo D’s lunch: my bipolar week in eating
Foo D ‘s weekly eating adventure takes him into the unfamiliar territories of Posh and Extreme Vegetarian
My last week’s eating has been a violent swing between the familiar (pork) and things I usually avoid (extreme vegetarian food and the posh).
Saturday started off innocuously enough – eating pulled pork sandwiches at the London Fields Brewery for the Dead Dolls Club Summer Affair. Nothing suspicious there, just tentative sunshine, alcohol and music. Alright the music did have a banjo, but not in a threatening way.
It wasn’t until Sunday morning when things started to change. Mrs Foo D had booked us for brunch at the Wolsely months before and despite it being in the calendar since then, it still came as an unwelcome surprise that not only I would have to get out of bed, but I might even have to wear a shirt.
As it turned out, there wasn’t any need to worry. The staff may have to dress like incredibly formal penguins but the patrons, at least judging by everybody else who was there when I was, were a thoroughly mixed bag of tourists, business bods and general randoms. There was someone wearing cargo shorts with socks and sandals. If you see that, unless you’re naked, you know there is no way to really fall foul of the dress code.
I was also calmed by the militarily efficient service and the amount of bacon that came with my French toast.
So I’d compromised into semi-formal clothing (it says something vaguely sad that this is what I consider a short-sleeve button shirt to be) and made it to the other side with only the mildest trauma. I felt like I’d achieved something.
The week progressed and propelled by this feeling of accomplishment and in the spirit of adventure I decided the time was right to check out a couple of Turkish places that were sitting in my hulking procrastination folder.
The first, Moon & Sun is right next to where I live and replaced another neighborhood cafe that had been there for years. They do all the usual london Turkish cafe stuff including menemen, which is basically everything in a Turkish breakfast chopped, fried and then mixed with egg and feta cheese. It’s cheap and fresh and it’s easy for me to get home if I eat too much and need to sleep it off.
Rose Cafe is a slip of a thing right next to one of my regular food haunts on Holloway Road, Curious Yellow Kafe which has since moved to Hoxton. A vegetarian colleague had been raving about their couscous, and not having had a lot of experience with couscous that could induce someone to rave, it seemed like a viable lunch option. The waitress was intimidatingly serious, but the couscous was admittedly very special as was the lentil soup and getting three stuffed vine leaves for a quid.
This same vegetarian colleague was the instigator of a trip to Archway to try out a vegan Chinese place called Loving Hut. I kid you not. Not that I didn’t enjoy it, but I’m convinced there is some sort of dark sorcery involved in making edible meat-free meat. The crispy lamb pancakes and a couple of other dishes were spookily convincing, but the Loving Hut with the aid of it’s vegan propaganda jumbo-screen, leaves you with no illusions that what you are eating is not meat and if it was you would be a very bad person.
I’m usually immune to any kind of food related guilt, or suggestions that I might change my diet, but something must have made it past my defences. My week ended with a trip to Season Kitchen, one of my favourite local restaurants where I enjoyed a main of miso-glazed aubergine like it was a perfectly normal thing to do.
I don’t feel like myself at all.
Words and photos: Foo D