Last Thursday on that lovely hot summer’s eve we had (remember, that one? There’s only been one…) I went along to The Canonbury Tavern in North London to check out the launch of their new menu in the surroundings of their infamous beer garden.
Canonbury is the place I’d most like to live in London one day when I win the lottery. If you haven’t been – go check it out. It’s mostly a quiet and safe area full of mixed Georgian artisan cottages with pretty front gardens and yummy mummies carrying organic coffee and foraging mushrooms.
The Canonbury Tavern is well known for its humongous beer garden; it’s said that George Orwell wrote some of 1984 in this very garden. So off I went to bask in the smoggy London sun with a glass of Sauvignon or two.
I arrived starving, which was a huge mistake. From 7pm, a poor waitress carrying a small tray of samples was descended upon by a pack of desperately hungry bloggers, grabbing whatever they could (me included). The chef could not cook his little morsels quick enough.
That said, whatever I did grab was delicious. There was a scotch egg, some ceviche something and some mini hamburgers. Enough to satisfy the hunger monster. But let’s be honest, I really just wanted to get back out in that garden….