Sunday 24 March 2013

Stalling


Sadly leaving England; naturally exiting via London. A visit to Borough Market is overdue, so much so that snow (in late March!) can't stop me.
Borough Market was so much more than I expected, I'd forgotten how much prepared hot (and cold) food is available at every turn. The desire to taste and eat seemed to overtake the purchasing of food stuffs. That's not to say that the produce didn't do a good enough job of selling itself but the enticing smells and stall-to-stall fluidity meant that sampling cheese, and then preserves, and then cured meats was just too easy and too tempting to interrupt with a purchase. There was a lovely sense of quirkiness which surprised me as did the restaurant/café/gastro pub heavy circumference of the market.


Clearly the Borough Market experience should be one of taste over everything else. I can't say I remember another time where I've been advised of a 30 minute wait for a restaurant table in the middle of the afternoon; or had to queue outside of a bakery/coffee house in freezing temperatures in the snow. Perhaps I haven't been going to the right places. Which is why it's a shame that I'm leaving after re-discovering a fantastic place where food is displayed and enjoyed with fervor.

As a bread fan, I  kept my eyes open for a dough-rich stall and found one piled high with breads in abundance.
I again was surprised by the market atmosphere spilling out into the bricks and mortar establishments a stone's throw away; when invited to sample a freshly baked sourdough on a table in front of a bakery.
The knowledge that the sourness of the dough is determined, or produced, according to the temperature of the yeast mixture was freely shared and much appreciated.

Borough Market ensured that it is with a heavy heart that I fly out of London; despite the bizarre unseasonal snow and near-constant rain. If I knew I could experience food like this so easily where I live I'd be a happy girl, but like all great experiences there almost has to be something slightly fantastical about it. Effusive words? Yes; but my enthusiasm does get the better of me sometimes, especially when I've sampled the gastronomical pleasures of England and the Continent all under one roof.

The Bread Loaver

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