Special Dispatch: Café Tango, Glastonbury
Café Tango
The Glastonbury Festival
Worthy Farm
Somerset
by Cher E. Jamm
You know the sinking feeling you get in your stomach when you think the party's over before it's even started? Well, last Thursday afternoon, when I woke up gasping for air to the sound of fat rain drops hitting the roof of my polyester tent, I panicked. I woke up Mr Jamm and declared I was going home after breakfast as I couldn't bear another mudfest. He said I was being dramatic, but he humoured me anyway. We got into our wellies and raincoats and I self righteously packed all my stuff ready to head home a mere 24 hours into being there. The day before had been beautiful, and I knew, I just knew that this would happen. I don't like rain, I don't like having wet socks and hands, I don't like not being able to sit down anywhere. Yes, after breakfast, I would be going home. The decision had been made.
We trudged over to Café Tango and ordered two veggie breakfasts’ and took our coffees to the comfy low chairs and tables. Watching people slip and slide in the mud as they walked past depressed me. Breakfast arrived on recycled paper plates and wooden cutlery. Eggs, beans, veggie sausage, wholemeal toast and a spinach and mushroom extravaganza. The beans were homemade and I'd usually turn my nose up at the ponciness of it all, but these were delicious. Veggie sausages were impressive - crispy on the outside and a herby taste sensation on the inside. The mushrooms and spinach were my favourite bit – sautéed with spring onions and black pepper. The only let down was the wholemeal toast which came without butter (or anything for that matter). The eggs were fine, if slightly over cooked.
The highlight and light at the end of my blue funk was the coffee. If I could have coffee like that every day it would change my life. And indeed, it helped change my mind about leaving. I stopped seeing the slipping and sliding and noticed that people were actually laughing in the mud while I'd sat there fuming and thinking about the nearest train station. I suddenly felt ridiculous for coming over all prudish. And sure enough, by the next morning, the sun had started to shine again. I even got a tan. And I got to see Leonard Cohen. Café Tango can have my £7 any day.
The Glastonbury Festival
Worthy Farm
Somerset
by Cher E. Jamm
You know the sinking feeling you get in your stomach when you think the party's over before it's even started? Well, last Thursday afternoon, when I woke up gasping for air to the sound of fat rain drops hitting the roof of my polyester tent, I panicked. I woke up Mr Jamm and declared I was going home after breakfast as I couldn't bear another mudfest. He said I was being dramatic, but he humoured me anyway. We got into our wellies and raincoats and I self righteously packed all my stuff ready to head home a mere 24 hours into being there. The day before had been beautiful, and I knew, I just knew that this would happen. I don't like rain, I don't like having wet socks and hands, I don't like not being able to sit down anywhere. Yes, after breakfast, I would be going home. The decision had been made.
We trudged over to Café Tango and ordered two veggie breakfasts’ and took our coffees to the comfy low chairs and tables. Watching people slip and slide in the mud as they walked past depressed me. Breakfast arrived on recycled paper plates and wooden cutlery. Eggs, beans, veggie sausage, wholemeal toast and a spinach and mushroom extravaganza. The beans were homemade and I'd usually turn my nose up at the ponciness of it all, but these were delicious. Veggie sausages were impressive - crispy on the outside and a herby taste sensation on the inside. The mushrooms and spinach were my favourite bit – sautéed with spring onions and black pepper. The only let down was the wholemeal toast which came without butter (or anything for that matter). The eggs were fine, if slightly over cooked.
The highlight and light at the end of my blue funk was the coffee. If I could have coffee like that every day it would change my life. And indeed, it helped change my mind about leaving. I stopped seeing the slipping and sliding and noticed that people were actually laughing in the mud while I'd sat there fuming and thinking about the nearest train station. I suddenly felt ridiculous for coming over all prudish. And sure enough, by the next morning, the sun had started to shine again. I even got a tan. And I got to see Leonard Cohen. Café Tango can have my £7 any day.
posted by London Review of Breakfasts |
12:10 PM |
4 Comments:
The vegan breakfast at manic organic is fantastic. I often fantasise about the potatoes they do with it...mmm...festival food...
I work at Manic Organic, I have done for many many years. Our food is vegan. Our breakfast is certainly not eggs, beans, spinach and mushrooms.
It is sauteed potatoes with paprika, a rich homemade tomato sauce, and a vegan saus mix, which is not in the form of a sausage, but a mix, and a wedge of bread; all vegan. I am slightly confused, you possibly didn't eat at Manic?!
Oh no. I suspect I got my festival cafe's mixed up. I meant Cafe Tango - the one at the start of the Greenpeace field. I believe Manic was situated right across the way from it. Huge apols for the confusion to one and all. Not cool at all.
Cher E. Jamm
I think all this confusion makes for an even more authentic festival review... but nevertheless I've changed the review accordingly. We'll try and visit you next year, Manic Organic. Our apologies for attributing eggs to you.
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