I feel lousy today. I've been fighting off a cold all week. The band had a gig on Friday night and my body made a pact that it would get me through it. It was brilliant! However every such deal has a downside. If it was an option, I'd stay in bed all day. I was feeling rotten for the cup final yesterday. It was a blessing that I couldn't get a ticket! I've been a gigging musician for 46 years now and never blown out a gig due to illness. I've dosed up with Lemsips, Immodium, and all manner of other remedies to get me through, but I've always somehow got there. I recall one gig in 1986, where I had food poisoning. I couldn't eat anything, I couldn't drink anything. I decided that if I ate/drank nothing all day, I'd not have an embarrassing accident on stage. Our then sax player asked why I wasn't having a pint. I explained. He suggested I have a spliff and said that would make me feel better. He kindly rolled me one up. I learned a life lesson then. When you have food poisoning, taking something that stimulates your apetite is a terrible idea. I can honestly say that the whole evening was one of the worst of my life. When you've not eaten all day, taking a mind altering substance is not clever when you have to concentrate. After the show was over, I went home and slept for 36 hours. The show was on Friday night. I woke on Sunday morning and felt awful. There was no food in the house and there were no shops open. I got the bus down to Burnt Oak and had a cup of tea and a fish finger sarnie at the Betta Cafe in Burnt Oak ( I wasn't eating meat at the time). I can honestly say that in all of my life, no meal ever tasted better. It was so good that it was almost an out of body experience..
My Brother Laurie trained to be a Roman Catholic Missionary in his youth. He left home at 13 and was in the Seminary until just before his ordination, I think he was 19 or so at the time. I believe he did it to get away from Challoner School at the sadistic headmaster at the time. He always says it was the best education. I recall telling him about my fish finger experience. His reply fascinated me. He said "Have you ever heard the term Hedonist?". Of course I had, it is people who love to overindulge. He said "They are much misunderstood. What most people don't know is that when they had their hedonistic orgies, they would fast and abstain from sex for a couple of weeks before. That way, when they went over the top, it was so much more fun, everything seems so much better when you've been deprived of it for a while".
My riposte was that I'd make a lousy hedonist, as my idea of hedonistic orgy was a fish finger sarnie at The Better Cafe. But in truth, there is a part of me that enjoys such moments far more than swanky restaurants, glitzy parties and fancy cooking. For years, I wanted to write a guide to London's best greasy spoon cafes. Wherever I worked, I always found a proper cafe nearby. When I worked in IT, most people were flush with money and had a penchant for excess and expensive lunches. I like to fit in, so I had my share, but I always had a cafe, a refuge, where I could go and chill out, read the paper and have proper food at a reasonable price. When I worked in Windmill St, it was Lawtons on Goodge St, at Blackfriars, on Buckingham Palace Road, there was a brilliant Greek Cafe in Pimlico, there was a cafe opposite Baynard House, at 100 Lower Thames St there was one by Embankment Station, at BACS in Burnt Oak, it was back to The Betta Cafe, in Pall Mall, it was too posh and I only got 30 minutes, which meant I didn't like the job. I then went to Aldgate and found the wonderful Dino's cafe by Spitalfields Market and Sidolis on Leman St. I was spoiled. I then moved to St Katherines Dock and only Sids was in range. My last job took me to Victoria Embankment. Culture had changed and I struggled. I don't think any of the establishments I mentioned are still in existence. If I am in town, I always make an effort to go to The Little Portland Cafe on Little Portland St. One of the last proper cafes in Central London. Sadly the days of a bacon butty and a cuppa for under a quid are long gone.
One of the big legacies of that Fish Finger Sarnie at the Betta Cafe was that for me, a fish finger butty is what I always have when I am feeling ill, down and despondent. My missus loves fancy big fish fingers, I prefer the smaller, cheaper versions. The sarnie I had in 1986 was white bread, margarine, birds eye fish fingers and a bit of ketchup. Sadly, I have gentrified it. My sarnie this morning was Waitrose fish fingers, on toasted sourdough, with salad, gherkins, cherry tomatoes and M&S garlic mayo. It was delicious and Mrs T loved hers. Delicious as it was, as the fish fingers were frying, I couldn't help reflecting on that sarnie in the Betta Cafe. My band, The False Dots released a new version of our Burnt Oak Boogie video, which is semi animated. A mate asked me in the week if I ever actually ate in the Betta Cafe. Maybe they felt that being from Mill Hill, I was too posh! But I went to Orange Hill School in Burnt Oak and we'd nip down for a cuppa and a slice of toast several times a week. Myself, Boz and Tim from the Polecats and a couple of other Herberts, would sit doing the NME crossword, discussing the latest punk rock releases and gigs. I think that was where I got my love of cafe's from.By the time I was sixteen, Mill Hill had no proper cafe. The nearest thing was The Wimpy. Much as I loved it, it always felt a bit too posh for me.
Whenever I've been abroad, I've always tried to find a proper greasy spoon. Much to my then girlfriends horror, I found one in Stockholm. It was in St Ericsplan, a poorer district. In New York, there was one opposite the police station. I learned not to go in at shift changeover. The cops would go in for breakfast, and discuss the grisly details of the nights shootings. Not conducive to a pleasant scoff. Of course, Yanks can't really do a proper breakfast. They don't have decent bacon, and they put sugary sauce on it. They don't have proper sausages. They have stuff called 'grits' that is like tapioca pudding. Disgusting. Just have the eggs on toast!
The point I am making is that food is to be enjoyed. It can make the world seem a better place. But it is best if it is savoured in an environment where you can feel comfortable. For me, that is a greasy spoon!
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