As I mentioned, a couple of weekends ago I went to see my friend lovely C over in her neck of the woods, Pimlico. I was so excited by this place and we had so much to catch up on, that I completely forgot to take photos. So this weekend we returned, and I dragged B along too.
Fresh juices sit in the fridge, waiting for you to grab a straw and slurp away: mixes of mangoes, spirulina, matcha, berries are simultaneously tasty and healthy. The dream. Believe me the green liquid you see in the photo which looks like it tastes of mud, actually tastes of tropical, sunny beaches.
I went with every intention of trying something different this time, but when C ordered the sweet French toast again, there was no point trying to convince myself I wanted anything different. The food envy would have been too much. Two enormous slices of brioche, fluffy and pillowy, fried to give the whole thing a little crust, covered with caramelised bananas, doused in maple syrup, sprinkled with cinnamon, and with a generous dollop of mascarpone on the side.
B ordered poorly and grumpily looked around at what everyone else was eating. Everything else looked fabulous, and his just looked fine. The eggs were yellow and cooked perfectly, but the toast was useless, and the sausages plonked pathetically next to the eggs. An afterthought.
A few hours of art and culture later (the Tate Britain mobile guide app comes highly recommended from us!) and we found ourselves back again for tea. And cake. Oops. Hot ginger, lemon and honey bought us back to life. I also have teapot envy - how adorable are these little pots and cups combinations?! An enormous slice of lemon cake with buttercream icing shared between us gave us the energy to face the rain and venture outside again, back to the other side of town.