In town for a reunion with old school friends two thirds of the party insisted on eating before drinking. Sensible, right? especially as I had an early flight to Rome the next day. We spurned Pizza Express in favour of something local and this was a good idea. Service was friendly and the offer pretty…
We took coffee down the road at Flat White, which since I was last there in the 2010s appears to discovered that Billy Idol is C-O-O-L. Sorry kids, I was there and he was C-R-A-P. Thankfully their coffee remains superb.
Now, I can speak French and often do in France (and Belgium). But being expected to spontaneously speak it in Crouch End brought out the inner Kingsley Amis, which, to be honest, happens with greater frequency now that I've walked the earth for half a century.
So we emerged into the daylight early, peckish and under-boozed. Which was a shame.
Hazy recollection of a month ago Belgian burger.
A London Journal 