Cheese is made by people.
I’ve now tried twice, and I conclude that Australian oysters are superior to English ones, giving AU its 2nd point against Europe .
It wasn’t my first trip to London but the first wasn’t a fair test, as the first was during Christmas week and everything was closed. (Despite that handicap, I discovered Ottolenghi a few hours before leaving, and was forever changed by the revelation of white + wood.)
Pilgrimage obligations dispatched I went in search of a neighborhood to call home, and more food.
I tried some classic British cuisine, including a very high quality scotch egg (didn’t get it} and fried candy. Impressed, but then I love Oreo cookies under most conditions.
Spitalfields Artisan market has gone to the import darkside and I failed to avoid bad coffees along the way.
In fact the amount of money I spent on coffee during one week boggles the mind. Every cappuccino costs the same, just shy of £3. But half are undrinkable.
The best was Monmouth Coffee, with organic milk de rigeur. And perfect Pastries. And a luxuriously sensual and trusting retail environment.
And each cheese had the name of the people who make it. People, making cheese.