Up the Smoke last night to see the son gigging with The Blondettes (a band he started up pre Ed Fest, now going strong) and also playing cello alongside The Massive Violins. Fabulous. Sheer uplift. They were playing in a cellar underneath a Hackney pub. Before the show we looked for somewhere to eat in Hackney Road and found a cafe that did a passable shepherd's pie. Smother something like this in Bisto gravy and you can't go far wrong. Anyway, we chose it over the place across the road as Mr. Signs reckoned that anywhere serving both pizza and doner kebabs should be avoided, and I didn't care as long as I ate soon and avoided a blood sugar crash.
If you click you might see the ghost of me in the window.
They had a list of Baverages (yes I know, but that is how they spelled it so no point in arguing). I had tea.
As we left I had a notion that there was something Hopperesque about this. The light isn't quite right, but the lone man there is - and the shadow.
I've actually added a couple of new labels. Ever the optimist, I want more of both.
