EDitorial ± 22-Feb-2013

Light Lunches: Crabtrees, Hadleigh

I've been putting in some serious hours recently. No, srsly. Time, then, for a day off in the lieu. Can't spend all day in there though -- clearly that would be wrong on a single level -- and optimum conditions for another mystery mealtime word- beginning- with- m- meaning- outing, a la Bungay. Always wanted to use the phrase "a la Bungay". Not to be confused with Ali Bongo.

Right turn at the lights and out past posho Hintlesham Hall, home of the helipad: kids, we're here! Road zags and zigs before the B1070 turn-off. Happily we're in Hadleigh and the car parking (round the back of the Co-op) is free for up to 3 hours. Windblown walk to the high street and left into "The Coffee Tavern", possibly better known as Crabtrees. We number four: we watch as the lady who nipped in ahead of us takes the table-for-four by the window, seemingly for herself. D'oh. This is awkward. Then a v. nice lady pays it forward and escorts her party of five from the large table by the other window: yay, we're in and don't need to head back into the freezy cold!

Classy old building, this, with tables front and back, all of them occupied at this precise mo'. Here's the menu -- a big ol' book -- plus a handful of blackboarded one-offs for those with specials needs. Three-quarters of us go for the baguette option (egg mayo, BLT) and cheeky chips on the side while G. is terribly grown-up with her hummous and pitta. Proper glass bottles of Coke keep us going, while The Boy stays busy with a whopping cream-topped strawberry milkshake. Grub takes a while, understandably, but gets the fab Macca thumbs-up. The Boy manages to find fault with his sausages (hold the caramelized onions) which are "too hot".

Like the dudes they are, Crabtrees does the odd gig, too, of a Friday night. Helps that they have a licence for the demon drink. We have to demonstrate further patience afore we can order cake, for we must have cake. While The Boy brownies down, the other three of us stare skywards at our "slices" of Victoria sponge and carrot cake, great gridirons not seen since JaCey's. Two half-slices of lovely light carrot cake are smuggled away into napkins for much much later. Creamy cappuccino, too. Reluctantly we leave, larger.

If it was a car -- Hendon 1938 Crab Car.
If they were passing by -- Marcia Wallace.