Rathdowne Village is quickly becoming a security blankie: one that smells just right and has you all edgy if you leave it alone for too long. Small Screen supplies the films and records, Gerald's bar serves the wine and cheese, North grinds your beans, and now Clay is your favourite convenience store.
For a greater slice of the population, wild dreams involve cake: deliberately getting grenache on the blade so you can plant one on the nearest love interest, or witnessing a bikini clad harlot burst out of the top of a sponge. Whatever your fantasy, cake comes in ample forms to suit the most impossible dream.
Edie: I'm at secret IGA now. More details to follow.
Penny: I have decided to interview you via sms, I will transcribe. How did it go, what do they have there?
Edie: First and foremost, they have whippets. Right there out in the open. For the taking.
Penny: Amazing. And are they live?
Edie: I've just been informed that what Americans call whippets, you all call whippy bulbs, nangs.
Who do these French think they are? Epoisses de Bourgogne delicately treads the line of genius and insanity. Only made from spring milk of cows grazing on aromatic grasses and herbs, this pungent, really pungent, small orange-red round of cheese is like no other. So much so it is banned on the Metro.
Like a gay lion, the sticky date pudding was once a humble beast. Content to sit on its own, quietly appearing on the menus of certain pubs and upper-middle-class dining rooms, or perhaps serving as a punchline to a long-forgotten dirty joke that never actually existed.
Alongcomes Trampoline with their gelati made from the milk of goldencalves.
It used to be a truck rental garage, now it’s a bakery. Actually it’s a commercial bakery, but it’s also a café. But don’t ask questions. Why argue with giant ovens radiating heat into a place where you can eat breakfast from 7.30am? Hell, bakers get up early, why not actually sleep there? No need for the night rider, just ask these guys to let you in and wake up to a coffee and an outfit infused with the sweet smell of yeast.
At some time or another we’ve all had that crazy notion that it’s much cheaper to make your own lunch. It’s not. By the time you buy everything for your sandwich, make it, transport it, you’ve lost about 5 years of your life, you’re down $20 and your bag smells.
What we’re trying to tell you here is that you should leave it to the experts.
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