Inexplicably I'm feeling somewhat sad at the prospect of my final shift at Le Breton this evening. Having given it quite a lot of thought my only expanation is that I was more attached to the place than I realised. We've certainly gone through quite a lot together.
Still it's a new day and I'm off to meet my friend Tracy at the Towpath cafe in Hackney (well if this train ever actually starts to move).
The Towpath is my friend Amanda's little place (there might be others involved but I don't really care), and it's a treat, nestled on the side of Hackney canal.
Amanda popped her head round the corner and said hello - strangely enough t was both of our last days at work - she's doing a modicum of travelling (well having a holiday) and I'm looking at a serious chunk of the year off....
Still the Towpath is a great little venue. Initially there was ust the selection of cakes and breakfast stuff on the menu, but the selection improved massively when the lunch menu came up.
I plumped for lardo on toast with radishes and cherry tomatoes and a bowl of poached chicken salad, while Tracy stayed in extremelycomfortable territory with a toasted cheese and spring onion salad. Home made lemonade and a couple of glasses of house wine sorted the liquid part.
Everything about the towpath cafe is great; the salad was beautifully dressed and extremely fresh, the lardo was an unusual thing to find on the menu and was spiced and mouthfilling in the best sort of way. Confirming my assertion that there isn't much that isn't improved by pig fat..
Lunch was rounded off by a a natural (no sulpur) Sangiovese from Tuscany and a portion of yoghurt and pistacio cake. Then it started raining, proper raining, rain with intent and purpose. So we sat still and carried on chatting until it cleared. Which I guess sums up the highs and lows of the the cafe, lovely food, but you're more than a little bit exposed, a bit of wind or a lot of rain all make themselves felt quite forcefully.