Camberwell Green


Nah, this isn’t my kind of place. It’s got that shabby-chic thing going on. The first couple of times you encounter such a place it seems new and refreshing and interesting but after that it just seems fake. And the clientele seem to fully embrace the shabby-chic philosophy. They’re the kind of folk who are a partner in a law firm or a dental practice but at the weekends they like to wear jumpers with holes in the elbows and boating shoes that have almost worn away. And they do so while sipping half a pint over several hours while commandeering and entire table with their ensemble of Sunday broadsheets. Damn bloody bourgeoisie-bohemians. And he beer list was poor. So poor that I almost thought I was due a Deuchars. I looked in the fridge and spied an IPA from Monteith’s and decided to get one of them. It was dull.

To be fair, the food was great. Although I think coupling the word chili with macaroni cheese was stretching it a bit. It was an excellent macaroni cheese but having a couple of slivers of green chili mixed it does not make it a chili macaroni cheese. Hey ho.

The Stormbird is just a short stroll away but it’s on an entirely different planet.


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