There is something I love about cafes. Going from the down and out real greasy spoon filled with fat builders tucking into large plates of grease with some food added, or to posh cafes serving the same but to a more refined palette to those of you who are too afraid or disgusted to go into a workers café.
I think it is a cultural thing, as I’ve found a few friends from overseas who love a full fry up, but would not set foot in a small café.
Most Saturdays when I was a kid, I had a full fry up. My dad would always cook it, as it reminded him of his youth growing up in the 50’s, when café life first came around. But as the years went on I stopped eating them as often and went less and less to cafes.
It’s a shame, as they are part of our cultural heritage in one form or another. Although I am sure most of the population would disagree, but I’ve found those people deride some foods in public, but secretly you can find them noshing on their £1 burger under those golden arches.
As we are new residences of Stoke Newington, it feels only fair that we should sample the delights of our new hood. Moving is tiring work, especially as we have to clean the old flat up as well. I hate landlords who paint all their walls in light colours, makes cleaning them such a pain. Hey ho.
On Stoke Newington Church Street, is the Lydia Café. A small, pleasant establishment serving the charmed folk of Nappy Valley.
I never asked but I am sure Lydia is from or around the Middle East, as her menu has one or two items form that region.
Her full brekkie contains all what it should. Sausage, bacon, beans, sauté potatoes (instead of chips), fried egg with runny yolk and 2 delicious slices of crispy black pudding, plus toast. All were cooked well, tasted great and the portions were large. What more could a man ask for in life.
The other half opted from the Middle Eastern part of the menu with a combination plate of pitta, falafel, hummus and salad. All very healthy.
I liked it in Lydia’s and I think we shall become very good friends from now on. Especially as posher versions of the good ol’ café do not hit the mark. Yes you know who you are.