Verona Cafe on Drury Lane -- a place of no returns!

Boxing Day -- wonderful to have our Day Off match a Day Off for the city...We ramble in on our regular double-decker, hopping off at Waterloo Bridge for the best views of London!  We watch the preparation of the ice rink at Somerset House for another day of skating.

We stroll up Drury Lane, past the shops filled with dance paraphenalia, heading to our favourite ECo Cafe.  Alas, closed for the holiday.  But we're in luck...the lights are on at nearby Verona Cafe.  But that's where our luck stops.


Unfriendly, okay -- rude staff, hard-boiled yolks in our poached eggs, no hot milk given, and a charge of £2.20 ($3.50) for a refill of hot water poured over our used teabags add up to not a great breakfast experience. And the special deal advertised on the outside sandwich board is "not available today," and that comment right after a greeting of "Merry Christmas."  Yes, the tea was hot, but not piping, and three times the cost of a usual mug.  

 The expedition  to the loo down the stairs in the middle of the room was the icing on the cake...or the cream on the scone.... 


No stars of approval for this place -- except, thankfully, the place is dead silent which means a peaceful background as we chew our hard eggs and dry toast.  And after a complaint about the charge for the cup of hot water, the waiter reluctantly and with a snarl returns the £2.20. 

Sorry Verona, but we will not be coming back. 

Happy Boxing Day!  

Christmas buzz - Strood, Kent

Christmas buzz in the air -- delight, but a bit stressful, too -- so we decide to keep things simple today, heading east to Rochester, our favourite default Kent destination.  We park at the Castle Carpark and opt for adventure... walking back across the Medway River into Strood.  Ah, Strood, not on the touring coach itineraries!  Really, just the entry into Rochester with petrol stations, chain stores and...

an early-opening breakfast cafe!  The sign way up the side of a building catches our eye, but we're not sure where to enter.  Yes, The black metal door behind the dumpster is it!  
In we go.

Down the long corridor -- not to worry, we've entered by the back door!  Big smiles and cheery voices welcome us into the "Rest 'A' While Cafe" of Strood.  
Still dark outside, the cafe glows with florescent illumination and just enough tinsel to ring in the season.  The entire place shines with cleanliness.  No TVs and soft radio...yes!

Ozzy brings mugs of strong piping hot tea (indulging us with hot milk).  That makes for one Happy Husband, indeed!  Turns out Ozzy's home is Izmir, Turkey, where Global Ministries (http://globalministries.org) has sent missionaries for decades. We remember that in May we read of the death of missionary Fernie Scovel who served as a science and maths teacher from 1949 to 1991  (49 years!) at the American Collegiate Institute (Ozel Izmir Amerikan Lisesi) in Izmir. 

Back to Happy Husband at the Rest "A" While Cafe.  What does that "A" refer to anyway?  We puzzle over its significance, or lack thereof.  The eggs present a delightful design,  and HH's full breakfast includes fried bread, edible and delicious this time, thank goodness.

Thinking ahead to our next holiday, we inquire of Ozzy where we should visit in Turkey.  Without hesitation, he declares, "Nevsehir, Kapadokya,"  whips out his smart phone and proceeds to show us numerous YouTube videos of stunning 4000 year old rock formations in Kapadokya, including a cartoon version of the geological history -- with a Turkish narrative!  Luckily animated cartoon volcanoes look alike in any language.  If we write about breakfast in Nevsehir, you'll know when and by whom we were inspired to head in that direction!


 By the time we are ready to leave, the sun has risen and the day has arrived for Strood.  Ozzy offers to take our photo, and is happy to have us mention him on our Breakfast in Britain blog.


Strood greets us with local art, a couple charity shops, and a walk into the rising sun silhouetting Rochester Castle and Cathedral, across the Medway River again. It's a beautiful day in Britain!  

 People are out, but all the commuter cars are gone.  The tide has come in to fill the banks of the Medway.

So we look back at Strood on the Medway, stomachs full and spirits lifted.

Rendezvous Cafe in Beckenham - not quite bliss, but tasty

Another Happy Husband moment in Beckenham at the Rendezvous Cafe.  An early morning start means we arrive soon after the 7:00 am opening.  Already men-in-suits enjoy full breakfasts before catching the train into London and others in reflector jackets queue for take-away bacon sandwiches.  

For an extra 80p (about $1.25), the Full English Breakfast wins today.  The eggs run perfectly golden!  The host has a friendly word and big smile for everyone. But the radio volume is a touch intrusive. 

We watch the wintery sky turn from black to brilliant pink as the sunlight filters through at 8am.  Jolly Santa and Christmas wreaths express Christmas cheer pleasantly.  The wall of small window panes grants a wee touch of Old English to a modern eating joint.

After breakfast we enjoy Beckenham High Street, loaded with Charity shops, a small bookstore and more than one pharmacy.  That's part of the adventure each week, finding a High Street with a bit of charm -- yes, Beckenham boasts a few half-timber buildings, enough charity shops to entertain us with thrift-shop treasure-hunting, and a book store.  A bit of history is always fun, and today's High Street offers an intriguing old mile marker at the central intersection.

 
Few tourists, if any, head to Beckenham in southeast London, but for our Thursday morning breakfast jaunt, it's a winner. 

Aversham-on-the-hill --end of the Metropolitan Line

Heading to the opposite corner of London on the suggestion of a website spotlighting "Best Villages in the South of England" (review by Ferne Arfin), we travel Northwest toward Old Aversham via Overground and two Underground trains, fifteen minutes shy of a two hour journey.  We find ourselves at the end of the Metropolitan Line, the world's oldest subway (so the review claims). Disembarking onto the platform still umbrellaed by Victorian arches and canopies, or so it appears to my foreign eye, we enjoy a stroll through Old Aversham (several pubs -- including two from the movie "Four Weddings and a Funeral", but no cafe). Then head up the hill to Aversham-on-the-hill, the "modern town" started with the arrival of the Underground station.

Sadly, the local cafe closed "a while back," so we settle for the Master Chef open at 7:30 am. Could be a franchise, but not sure.  The cheerful waitress, donning a polka-dot Master Chef apron takes our 2x2 order, returning quickly with two large mugs of piping hot tea.  Clean throughout, wobble-free tables, no TV and soft music create a pleasant space in which to enjoy our warm retreat from the bitter cold.
And just enough tinsel and glitter to make it Christmas.

The extra-large framed photos of New York make us wonder why some restaurants try to be somewhere they are not -- Pictures of the ancient Market Town of Old Aversham, only a mile away, would provide interesting and informative visual sustenance.  Ah, but likely these NYC photos arrive pre-framed from a mass supplier of art-for-your-business.  And photos of Old Aversham would need to be taken, printed and framed.  And, truth be told, the New York cityscape is beautiful.

But let us not forget the eggs...poached on brown bread today.  Happy Husband smiles with delight as he pokes the first yolk and his bread soaks in the run-off.  The other three seem more soft-boiled.  But all are hot and delicious.  And the still-piping-hot tea covers any egg-disappointment.

The blustery Winnie-the-Pooh day blows dry leaves inside each time the door opens, and the staff quickly appears broom-in-hand to sweep them away with a smile.

As we depart, the woman enjoying her eggs, bacon and chips, sitting in the front window, reminds me of my beloved aunt Helen who enjoyed a weekly meal out at her favourite Burger Joint in Albuquerque, always claiming the same seat.  I wonder if perhaps this aged English Auntie finds herself in this window each Thursday enjoying the fare of Master Chef in Aversham-on-the-Hill.

Old Aversham, by the way, is indeed a gem -- chartered in 1200 by (Bad) King John for an annual Market Fair, still held each September, with a grand thoroughfare through its middle to accommodate the market (which today is accommodating extra parking down its middle).  Fun to picture Hugh Grant and Andy MacDowell  in the Crown Hotel (true confessions...we went inside to feel the vibes!)

Brockley Breakfast -- where locals go

Ah! Breakfast in Britain -- Another perfectly prepared portion of eggs and toast being enjoyed by Happy Husband. Today at Central Cafe, on Brockley Road in Southeast London (SE4).  We try the fried eggs instead of poached, though poached are available; set in round molds to create perfect circles, Eastern European style.  Runny as we like them.  And the piping hot tea is brought to the table -- feels like luxury. 

Delightful display of double-decker buses passing the front windows (routes 171 & 172 stop across the street).  Minimal personality, with gold framed standard restaurant-fare pictures hanging above bouquets of plastic flowers. But bright, light and warm on a cold morning in London.

So...condiments.  What do we find on our breakfast tables?  Here at Central Cafe we find the regulars of salt & pepper, sugar, vinegar and tomato sauce.  Then there's soy sauce.  Why the soy sauce?  They do serve lunches, but on what would one shake soy sauce?  And vinegar?  Where has that tradition come from...vinegar on chips (french fries)?  I love it, don't get me wrong, but were the fried sliced potatoes of old so bad that they needed a flavour to cut the fact that they were a big edgy?  Or one day did someone just discover it's a good combination of flavours?  And no, to folks from outside the UK, that is not catsup, nor is it ketchup.  Tomato sauce in Britain is an animal unto itself.  My brother-in-law, of recent British descent, insists that there is more than vinegar and sugar in it, even real tomatoes.  

Frequent flow of customers fill the 40-seat single store front.  Some choosing take away egg sandwiches. Noticeable cleanliness -- tables wiped clean as soon as they are emptied, ready for the next diner.  As you can see, plenty of newspapers to go around.

Standard illustrated menu, immovable furniture -- parties up to 4 only, I guess, or split in two. But fine for the two of us.  Radio on, a blend of talk and music, hip hop mostly, but pleasantly unobtrusive.  Could be louder, but thankfully not. 

Brockley Road, the "high street" of Brockley, is mostly cafes, restaurants, a laundromat and a couple small shops, and there's a Costcutters for bread and bananas, but not a tourist destination.  Though St Andrew's United Reformed Church, a five minute walk down the road, is a lovely old Presbyterian style church built in 1882, remodeled about 15 years ago creating a new bright cheerful interior. (SE4 2SA)

So, in general a good review for a typical greasy-spoon cafe breakfast.

See you next week!

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