I can see the said writer right now, all sweaty after triumphantly reviewing. Head slumped forward, lolling lasciviously about the place, genitals quite possibly out on display.
I never do that sort of thing.
BUT I have eaten a sandwich today that has made me want to do just that! So please, let me tell you all about it!
(Don't worry Mum, I am not typing this with my winky out.)
Yes, I visited Bishopsgate Market for the first time today, yet another street food shebang that has set up on the clean streets of the City of London. I say clean, Bishopsgate Market is set up on a gravel base building site. Anyway, they are popping up all over the place now and I must admit, I have spent some time cynically mulling that this explosion is simply the consequence of a 'trend' and the rush to make a quick buck. Perhaps it is for some. But the more and more I eat from various trucks, tents and wagons, the more and more I become convinced that this ever growing movement is, in the immortal words of John Torode, a good thing. For instance, the variety of what is available these days for lunch is breathtaking and definitely gives hungry punters a break from the banality of what the chains and supermarkets can offer.
Back to that sandwich though, namely a Rodeo-Sub from Sub Cult. Now when making decisions at these markets, I don't normally believe in choosing the longest one because far too many prats will join a queue on the simple basis that it is a very long queue and today Sub Cult had a very long queue. However, having sneaked a peek at the menu, there was enough on the board to pique my interest and make me want to stand in the blazing sun, like a prat. For about, ooh 20 farking minutes. Still, I thought a combination such as sweet scallop, free range pulled pork, calamari and lemon and parsley mayo would make the wait worth it.
Of course, when I finally made it to the relief of the shade of the van's side hatch, I was told by a man with unfeasibly large sideburns that they had sold out of their Sub-Marines. So, masking quite anger, my cohort and I plumped for the Rodeo-Sub instead, which cost £6.50 of our English pounds. And I am so glad we did, because it was gorgeous. Resplendent with 28 day (well?) hung beef, Provolone cheese, pickled chillies, baby onions and black truffle mayo, and a few spinach leaves to feign a healthy approach, this sandwich was amazing. Coupled with the soft brioche sub that contained the filling, each bite was a savoury, tangy, meaty delight. The back note of the truffle was particularly good, tying everything together with a pleasant hit of ommmaaaaamee.
Now if I had a penny for every time a sandwich or burger elicited an expressive "hmmmm" from my gobby mouth, I would have about 28p by now. But I have to say, this Rodeo-Sub definitely made me sit up more than usual. After taking my fill, I walked back up to the van to say thanks to the hirsute couple responsible and to commend them on a really fantastic sandwich and naturally they responded with cheers and fist bumps. I also inquired as to whether they towed their camper van everywhere because the interior of the driving compartment looked as ancient as my favourite lucky pants. Torn, ragged, dusty and nearly 23 years old. They assured me that the engine did work and that they drove everywhere, which made me think "Yeah right, jokers." But maybe they are telling the truth though, their sandwiches are certainly righteous enough.
Oh god, and now I am turning into Guy Fieri.
On one last note, if they wanted to take things just that little bit further, I would suggest this for the chaps at Sub Cult. On hot, sunny days when everyone comes traipsing in, braying in single file to form an orderly queue, try handing out some of your paper bags to your customers to use as hats. Some of them don't mind waiting but some of them, especially the paler specimens, do not fare well under the August sun.
|Hairy blokes in front of a van that surely can't work|