EDitorial ± 14-Jan-2011
Light Lunches: Pump Street Bakery, Orford
Pinch punch, 14th of the month. A1152, B1084 and back to 1165 when the first hard hats reported for work at Orford Castle: be ready by Christmas, they said. Handy car park, though, if others have pre-booked the 23 spaces on Market Hill. Doesn't always work out as you Plantagenet.
That protruding pinko property with the paired bay windows is doing its utmost to remain anonymous (wot no signs) but Andy pushes open the door like a pro and we're inside the Pump Street Bakery. Glimpsing a panoply of breadstuff, we're ushered into the minimal long room and a table that goes on for miles. Besides our peckish selves, there's a lady taking arty pix of, er, doughnuts: my kind of still life. Miss Baker talks us through the modest A5 menu, headed January 14th, today. Option 1 is a dish I've never heard of -- ribollita soup -- good enough for me. Had we used the free WiFi, we'd have observed that page 1 of Mr Google's results for said soup link to Jamie Oliver, Waitrose and the Independent. Enough said.
Gingerly sipping my hot Luscombe ginger beer when my Tuscan broth arrives. Peasant cabbage and beans and bacon is a fine match for the unpleasant climate. Accompanying slice of sourdough is sumptuous, and prompts an informative chat with Mr Baker about pain Poilane from that Paris. While father and daughter are being papped for their website, we learn of their Canadian roots and that they've escaped from that London to start this bakery/cafe business. Already got regulars and there's plans to open the tiny courtyard should the sun ever put his hat on again.
Admission: to make up for the "inconvenience" caused by the photographer, we reluctantly (ahem) accepted on-the-house pastries for pudd. Canadian butter tart with pecans for him, an A1 almond croissant for me. On the way out, paused to buy something for the weekend in the form of a slab of Vermont sourdough. Like the castle, Pump Street's a keeper.