Thursday, 11 August 2011

Sitting outside of popeyes eating chicken and fries

Clipse know what it's about, from Paris to London to Vegas. Last unorganised blackberry photo download of the last month on here ever I promise. That's an English scone in with those fried chicken pieces and BBQ sauce.


Welcome to Hash House. Yeah, that's bacon in dem waffles. It's wearing a rosemary hat. So priddy.

Late night tapas. Was not expecting it to be this good. So pink and oh so salty. Ayo! Campari, soda, lick lips, sleep.

Greedy crab lunch. I'll bang on a lot about Steve Hatt, ma monger. The glut of British cucumbers, parsley, mint and somewhere in that fat boy lunch for one is some home made mayo...

One of the few picnics of this disgruntled British summer. But certainly one of the best. Appreciate picniquers looking good as the sun went down and a lovely old terrier. Butter rubbed roast chicken, leaves, apples, sourdough, (more) unsalted butter, moon peaches. All blankets and cutlery courtesy of Mama Swan. She always make sure I'm well stocked in outdoor eating essentials.
And finally plums stewed with brown sugar, mint, water and a tiny bit of nanna's marsala. With Neil's Yard yoghurt. Don't know why I haven't bought that before now. Tastes proper farmy. Whiff of manure but in a good way. YUMMY,, MUMMY!

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