Zac needs to go to Farrow and Ball because you know what, sure, it’s his money. This involves a trip to Clifton and I am flattered to be asked to coffee to make the trip worth it for him. He suggests Catley’s, to which I’ve not been before, so it sounds ideal on all counts.
Oh it’s busy. We manage to squeeze in to a table at the back up top in the corner, having braced for having to get our delicious looking drinks and baked goods to go, but here we are.
I have a hot chocolate because I am a creature of habit/utterly predictable, and it is very good for a café - we’re not talking Ruby Hue level or anything, but still, very happy with it.
The crème brûlée donut, though, is spectacular; a properly tearable dough filled - overflowing! - with custard, the amount topping out being further sugared and torched, giving a satisfying bitesized snap.
We head over to Farrow and Ball, having stopped myself from buying a cookie or a salted caramel brownie to take home with me in a frankly heroic manner, and here I have the moment of realisation that I don’t just have to keep the walls in my eventual house white. Oh! The revelation! Doesn’t mean it’ll be Farrow and Ball though, I’m not made of money.