This is the kind of morning I envisaged, when I decided to make the most of living so centrally.
I literally bounced out of bed at 7am - the first time in months I have had such enthusiasm for the day - and after a few chores headed straight out into Covent Garden. The Christmas lights are so jolly this year and, unusually, they were on when I woke up, cheering the December gloom.
Neal's Yard cheese shop didn't have the customary out-the-door queue it has recently sported, but the 8 or 10 staff were all busy. So many people coming in for whole boxes of their pre-ordered Christmas cheese! And the counter was, as always, bulging with as yet untasted treasure. I don't think any of the men in my life will feel put out by knowing in advance that they have Stitchelton for Christmas gifts this year: in fact, I think it will only heighten their ardour for such a treat. It is made from unpasteurised milk and is a little more creamy, or sweet, than most blue cheeses.
The Stitchelton looked so good in one big piece, that I ordered a quarter of the whole cheese. More than 2.5 kg. Whilst it was being packed in a manger full of hay (ie packed in a box with straw, to help keep the temperature constant), I nipped round the corner to Monmouth coffee. Seven dials is an absolute delight right now; quite the prettiest corner of London! I digress... Monmouth was EMPTY which suited me very well: I chatted with a wonderful coffee-lady and we did a couple of tastings to help decide. There is possibly nothing finer than tasting coffees in the warm, on a dark, wet day, knowing an enormous cheese is waiting for you. Nothing. Finer.
I chose Fazenda do Serrado (Brasil) as it will suit best being drunk both with or without milk, and is more full bodied and chocolatey, which I think suits my family's taste better than the slightly more citrussy fellow I tried.
I swung by Neal's Yard to pick up my cheese, was charmed they remembered my name and order, then headed home to my cosy flat for the best breakfast of 2012 so far: Sobrasada toast with poached eggs and honey. I hear your consternation: yes honey! It was a tip from an esteemed foodie friend, and I just had to try it. The sobrasada was a generous gift from another good friend, who carts it back from Spain despite only having finite space for her own meaty needs!
It's beginning to taste a lot like Christmas.
Posts
