Daley Bread, Fitzrovia
20 Gosfield St
by Ronnie Oak
There’s no menu in Daley Bread. I look at a glass deli counter and I can’t even think of the word menu. I ask the woman what to do. Almost literally: “What do I do?”.
The counter is full of all sorts of stuff and after negotiations conclude we agree I’ll have a sausage and bacon sandwich. There’s an unholy amount of bread offered so I pick the last one on the list, which is ciabatta.
The man behind the counter hears my Irish accent and we talk about rugby. I’m glad I like the sport so I am able to dress phrases like “they just wanted it more” and “the best team won” in a suit of genuine conviction.
This conversational Garryowen hangs in the air for a while as I wait. Yes I want ketchup and I suppose I want it toasted. Mainly I just want it.
It arrives quickly. It’s huge. The sausage is better than most cafe sausages, which shouldn’t really damn it with faint praise if you think about it. The bacon is a bit disappointing, possibly overwhelmed by the amount of sausage. Perhaps I know how it feels. Not a bad complaint though. Some people in the world haven’t got two sausages to rub together God love them.
I get a bottle of water and pay. Jesus, the price of the whole thing is £3.50. I wonder if they charged me for the water as I expected to pay a fiver for just the immense sandwich. It’s great value. I’m pleased.
I like fancy things, and there’s nothing wrong with doing something perversely different than what it says on your tin, but sometimes even an intelligent person must praise utilitarianism.
This isn’t fancy. But it’s the first breakfast I’ve had in Fitzrovia with which I feel almost completely satisfied. I would go back.