First up, steamy food filth. If gooey chocolate chip cookes, cookie dough ice cream, chocolate sauce, peanuts and honeycomb sounds like a winning combo, throw yourself into the seediness at Greenwood. We’re talking trench coat on, collar up, corner seat, head down, order silently by pointing, pretend you’re reading the Metro as they make it, wolf down the thing once it arrives, throw down the £7, yelp a few Hail Marys, and get the hell out of dodge.
We know what you think about The Diner: you think you’re above it. You’ve paced past it in Camden enough times, two Doombars down, and shook your head at the place. But this pancake day – for one night only – you’re going to want to stop. I mean, just look at these red velvet pancakes. As soft as your nan’s best sofa… except this time, you won’t get written out of the will for eating it!
“Pulled pork on pancakes?” Your head whispers, “the things they have these days…” Well, yes, there is pulled pork on pancakes nowadays. And you know what else we have “these days”? Universal healthcare. Votes for all. So just stop talking and shove a stack of buttermilk pancakes with crispy pulled pork and whisky maple syrup in your mouth at The Book Club.
Ah, February. The scores of morning gym sessions exchanged for half-hangovers. It’s time to start making smart decisions. Investments in your future. In all of our futures. Like building your own pancake at Christopher’s! From blueberry bases to maple-cured bacon, the gang’s all there.
While Senzala Creperie’s “El Egg Ranchero” may sound like the touch-and-go racist name your dad has for the “special” poached eggs he makes with a bit of Tabasco in them, this is something else. This is chorizo. This is beans. This is egg. This is guacamole. This is food so gourmet, it’s the kind of thing that forced that Man Vs Food fella into retiring at 35. Has looked miserable ever since he did though, hasn’t he?
The skinny-jeaned corpse of 2007 indie is risen and dragging its battered Converse to a venue near you