Aah, London...
Love, love, love it - as long as I don't have to live there, of course. It's Saturday afternoon and we're hingin aboot in Herne Hill til we have to catch our train into town to begin our mammoth arse-achingly-long journey back to Scotland.
And what better way to spend a couple of hours than having lunch with the beautiful GC (while she's inbetween flea-pit flat viewings)? There was talk the night before of the Half Moon pub's pizzas (2 for 1 on a Monday but apparently so good we wouldn't mind paying full price on a Saturday lunchtime), so we decided to meet there.
However, drinks ordered and seats bagged, after half an hour there's no sign of a chef on the premises. And it's nearing 1pm. What do we do? Hotfoot it to Cafe Provencale next door or wait just a wee bit longer to see if he turns up? Well, knowing just how long it can take to get across London on a Saturday afternoon, we decide Cafe Prov is the answer.
And very nice it is too. It's had a nice wee makeover but they've still managed to retain a cosy, quirky and slightly ramshackle (that's a good thing) ambience. It's quite a small menu but it's to the point and they have some interesting specials if you're willing to push the boat out. GC opts for the smoked salmon omlette: it comes with garlic chips and she's being craving protein and chips lately being up the duff and everything. Me and Him go for the all day breakfasts - veg for me and meat for him, natch.
And it's all good. Except for two things: My fried eggs (x2) were a tad underdone for my liking and a bit gelatinous in parts, but horror of horrors - GC's chips were NOT garlicky. At all. However, the staff are super-nice and it's overall a pretty cool place, and if it was my local eaterie I'd be in there all the time.
Incidentally, can I just mention Pizza Express in Tonbridge? Yes, I know it's just a bloody Pizza Express and it's not like they need the business but it was probably the best one we've been in, and we got to sit on the very lovely balcony area overlooking the river. Just the ticket.
FUFF x
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