Tag: food-writing
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Wild Bean Café – Harthill, and everywhere

‘I suppose,’ said Sancho, ‘You’re in some café, stuffing yourself…’ Au contraire. Not Proven. How on earth is she so prescient? I shouldn’t have taken this call. ‘…when you should be working.’ The horrid truth was I had stopped in a ‘café’ and I was ‘working’. Unfortunately, when we gentlefolk light hauliers are toiling away,…
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The Oven at Overton Farm, Clyde Valley.

It should be a truth universally acknowledged that one must avoid drinking coffee in a garden centre café. Said establishments have a captive, pliant audience of pensioners with time on their hands, home improvement on their minds, triple-locked income in their digital pockets and simply no idea of what a single origin bean blend or…
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Tempura, Ayr.

Is Fusion a good thing? Nuclear fusion, well it has its uses. We probably can’t do without it. Jazz Fusion, I’m not sure. I think we could do without it. I know Sancho could*. No music whatsoever from a genre beginning with the letter J is allowed on the van stereo when Sancho is driving,…
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Brambles, Inverary.

Inverary, originally a model town constructed by a typically ambitious Campbell Duke of Argyll always seems inexplicably busy. I cannot quite fathom the attraction. It could be the spectacular view, or the absurdly castle-y castle. The explanation I favour is that the journey time for a coach-load of pensioners from Glasgow to Inverary exactly matches…
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Auchentullich Farm Shop, Loch Lomond-side

My petite yet perfectly formed friend revealed what her father gets up to now he’s retired. He had worked variously as a rep for a champagne vineyard, a whisky distillery and as a wine merchant. He’s a cultured fellow who travels a lot. He loves ice cream and will regularly drive 30km to visit a…
