EDitorial ± 22-Jun-2007

2007 Tour: Frangipani Coffee House, Woodbridge

Like the Electric Banana, don't go looking for La Patisserie: it's not there anymore. It reached that stage in life when work needed doing and has emerged as Frangipani. Judging by the pictures on the wall, they've taken their name from the flowering shrub rather than the once-powerful Roman family. All praise Wikipedia.

Reach Cumberland Street (see map) and make decision number one: left or right door? Liberal or conservative? Giggs or Ronaldo? Curiously there are two serving areas, and only the staff flit between the two. We, who strongly favour retention of the existing order, chose starboard (the Donald Sinden suite), and found a long shelf of recipe books to browse. Which one of our party was already doing, wisely ducking out of the ensuing chit chat. As with most if not all previous venues, plenty to choose from. Honorary mention to the cold drink selection: my bounty frappe was paradise.

Hot food was worth the slight wait. In a civilised society, nobody should hurry on a Friday lunchtime. Breakfast baguette didn't need the dollop of coleslaw, which they'd laugh at down at the Caravan Cafe. Fellow diners' enjoyed their various tasty soups (pea, carrot & coriander) and monster club sandwich.

Savoury done, half our party departed, and time for (a) pudding and (b) a radical rethink in our position. And so, like Churchill before us, we crossed the floor -- actually out on to the pavement then back in the other entrance -- to order cake and fine wine. This port side (the Windsor Davies day room) seemed more inviting, friendlier somehow, maybe due to the couch and display cabinet o' cakes. Our confectioner's slabs were awesome, both in quantity and quality. Proper cuppa coffee, too. Could happily have remained there for an hour or two more, quietly digesting.

If it was a car -- Smart Forfour.
If they were passing by -- John Hannah.