Clothes shopping in central London is my idea of hell. The presence of an affordable, unpretentious Japanese restaurant makes it all the more bearable. The thought of some barely marinated mackerel smeared with nose tingled wasabi will get me through a lot of shops with clothes that cater for skinny boys and not lovers of tete de veau.
Today at Toku we had some beautifully cooked tempura vegetables - even the baby corn was worth eating - and a plate of spanking fresh sushi washed down with a can of Sapporo lager. Walking back on to Piccadilly we found that we had lost our London edge. We'd slowed our pace, stopped getting frustrated by meandering tourists and found fewer being uttered under our breaths as we got cut up by inconsiderate people dragging wheelie bags behind them. With good food inside, London is less of a battle.
No comments:
Post a Comment