I think this is now the third year in a row I’ve begun a year in Flour House. Certainly last year. Well, certainly this year too I suppose. It’s a hangover from a time it was my go-to Saturday morning place, before it stopped being my go-to Saturday morning place. It wasn’t an acrimonious thing, but it stopped feeling right, so there’s this weird tug between “it’s not my place anymore” and “but tradition”. The latter wins out.
It’s the first of the three occasions where I’m not by myself, though. In two senses. This year I have Alasdair, but also we’re meeting Jenny and Tom (and of course Coby), which is a delightful way to start the new year. Coby is adorable and likes to grab your teeth.
As a result of it no longer being my regular, the menu is increasingly unfamiliar each time I go. This time, there are now mega baps on the menu - an adaptation of their Ultimate Sandwich. I go for the sausage one, filled with sausages (Ruby & White), smashed peas, slow-roasted tomatoes, leaves, seeds, sweet chilli sauce, and garlic aioli. Because this isn’t mega enough, I add some hashed browns. Also a chocolate milkshake, but that’s very much on the side.
In what is a god awful sign of maturity, I look at the stack of the thing and decide that eating it with my hands is just implausible to say the least. And so, like a grown up, I split it horizontally in half and attack it with a knife and fork.
It’s all very nice, of course. It’s a strong combo, always has been. It’s my own fault that the garlic aioli overpowered one side of the bap more, I should have eaten it like a child, but it hit the spot on a rainy, blustery New Year’s Day. A start.