It’s always the simple things.
There’s something so impressive, so comforting and so magical about the transformative alchemy that takes place when the basics of flour, water, yeast and salt are confronted with fire. The olfactory effect of this particular Maillard reaction is also big business. Nowadays, it mugs us in both the super and the property markets. They spritz the canned scent of baguettes in the aisles and use freshly browning loaves to lasso us into buying when we attempt to climb that greasy old property pole.
There’s something irresistible about good fish and chips. What is it about that maddening waft when someone brushes past with a steaming bouquet? My death row meal would definitely feature whisper crisp chips, slathered in Sarsons and a big hunk of freshly battered piscine protein… So imagine my delight when I heard that Poppies had sprung up at the end of Hanbury Street, just next door to Rosa’s.
The fish is all sustainably caught and fried in groundnut oil.
The decor is uber-retro.
The waitresses are decked out in 50′s style uniforms and there’s even a 6 foot juke box.
It’s clear that a lorra love has gone into this.