EDitorial ± 2-Apr-2001
We're spoiled for choice when it comes to takeaways. Within 200m (let's get metric!) of the front door are The Golden Fish, purveyors of this evening's freshly cooked cod, and not one but two Chinese eateries. Who needs home delivery when temptation is so close at hand? Time for some Jam:
I've a little moneyRelatively speaking, it requires some real effort to go fetch a curry. A three minute bike ride up the road takes you to probably the finest Indian restaurant in Ipswich, namely the Taj Mahal (established 1964). Remember when big Norm used to enter the bar in Cheers? It's like a very subdued version of that when I go into the Taj: "Evening, Mr Broom, how are you?". Somebody with a bit of time on their hands might draw the wrong conclusion from the fact that yes, they know my name.
And a takeaway curry
I'm on my way home to my wife.
— Down In The Tube Station At Midnight, The Jam
On my infrequent trips to the Taj, I park my bike directly opposite KFC. The F stands for "Fried", in case you'd forgotten. And my subsequent 30m stroll to the Indian means walking past a kebab shop, a pizza place and the Maharani at number 46. The Taj is at number 40/42. Were it not for a will of iron, I could so easily be the size of an Easy Access green bus.
If You Take Away With You Nothing Else
Cheese & Tomato, Hawaiian, Super Supreme:
- but of course, nothing beats a home-cooked meal
- in Scotland they call them take-outs
- any chilli sauce with that?