A week or so ago, back to Soif of Battersea Rise, my last visit being noticed at reference 1 and the subsequent purchase of wine at reference 2. A cold, overcast day, but not wet, so fine for cycling. Travelling via London Bridge and Bullingdon was indicated.
On the way to the station, I found that a good start had been made to the rendering of the new frame house in Meadway, last noticed at reference 3. As far as I cold make out the gear was being knocked in a bucket, on the scaffold, with something rather like a large food mixer. Not knocked up in a mixer down below and hodded up at all. Perhaps it was not the sand and cement render that I am used to. They were also using the sort of edging strips that I associate with interior plaster work. Possibly something like the offering from Screwfix snapped above. Or possibly something more complicated, as offered by the integrated insulation systems.
Thinking to use the conveniences actually in London Bridge Station, rather than one of the neighbouring pubs or hotels, I found that I had let myself in for a long walk in the lower regions. It would not have done to be in too much of a hurry. Eventually emerging near the old operating theatre of reference 4. We have visited in the past, but while I remembered the connection to St. Thomas's Hospital, I had quite forgotten that it was actually much nearer what is now Guy's Hospital. Marked down for another visit in due course.
However, checking this morning, the notice at reference 5 suggests that I had only thought about visiting the place. Perhaps I had conflated this museum with the Florence Nightingale Museum which is at St. Thomas's, which we visited back in 2014 and I noticed at reference 6. Much more the date which memory had suggested. Must consult BH.
Pulled my Bullingdon, and was soon engaged with the low flying sun, on this occasion bothering to don my shades. Young lunchtime footballers still on Clapham Common and I nearly got near enough to ask a supervisor what was going on, but not near enough. Maybe next time. No trouble on this occasion with the two sets of lights letting me into Battersea Rise and swung into the splendidly named Lavender Sweep without incident. The Limburg of the snap from TFL having been given sufficient notice in the postscript to reference 7.
Into Soif, where we took bread and butter, some sort of pork stew with polenta and gravy, pumpkin on the side and an apple pie. With a 2016 Riesling to drink.
The pumpkin was rather good, only bearing a distant relationship to the sort of large yellow pumpkins I used to grow for Halloween purposes, or indeed, those used at the inferno in Canada, back in 2014. Although, it comes to me now, and reference 8 confirms, that the pumpkins used for these shows were not real pumpkins at all. Replicas carved better and lasted better than the real thing.
A mainly green pumpkin, a slightly flattened sphere, perhaps six inches across, with the stump of the stem sealed with red wax. Something to do with them drying out in a more controlled way. Grown by the Zerbinati family in Mantua, a region seemingly famed for its pumpkins. More precisely, what they call at reference 9, the people responsible for our pumpkin, a Zucche Stagionata. Probably getting to Battersea Rise via the people at reference 10. Which would be of a piece with the organic, natural flavour of the wine list.
The apple pie was cooked to order. Again, rather good. Plenty for two, probably enough for three. Have yet to consult BH about how exactly it might have been made. Perhaps the answer is to take her there.
The wine was also good, a 2016 Schiefergold Purus from Rita and Rudolf Trossen, a slightly cloudy, almost fizzy white wine, of a sort which the Les Caves de Pyrene - the owners of Soif - seem to sell quite a lot of and which I rather like. Assuming that is, that I have not confused the glass of wine which came with the pork with the wine which came in the bottle. Perhaps they were both cloudy? Plenty of life on the Internet, but I was unable to find a website for the Trossen. Perhaps they really are a small outfit and have enough to do to grow the wine without bothering about websites.
Wound up with a drop of their excellent Calvados, then down to the pet shop across the road to inspect their Christmas geegaws. I settled for a rubber chicken, apparently intended to amused bored dogs. The salesgirl was impressive, because it must have been a slow afternoon, but she was still able to turn on the full sales experience without missing a beat. She knew her work. After which I retired to the Falcon to recover - along with the half cooked bread already noticed at the end of reference 11.
The bookcase in the snug had vanished, but alternative entertainment was available from one of the various televisions scattered about. Giving rise to the commonplace but true thought that the World Cup was a good way to vent of bit of nationalism in a safe way, in a safe space: we can all scream for England then go to the pub with the fans for the other lot afterwards. The football people at the Blenheim had told me in the past that this was the very much form in the good old days, when they used to travel Europe to follow their teams. Hooligans not that much in evidence at all. While I only got as far as wondering why the Korean men were wearing what looked like black sports bras under their shirts.
References
Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/11/bread-and-cheese.html.
Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/11/more-complications.html.
Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/11/a-proper-programme.html.
Reference 4: https://oldoperatingtheatre.com/.
Reference 5: http://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/01/not-for-squeamish.html.
Reference 6: http://psmv2.blogspot.com/2014/02/diy_20.html.
Reference 7: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/09/cheese.html.
Reference 8: https://psmv2.blogspot.com/2014/10/so-off-we-went-to-upper-canada-village.html.
Reference 9: http://www.zerbinatiagricoltura.it/default.aspx?lng=IT#.
Reference 10: https://natoora.com/.
Reference 11: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/12/impromptu-guard.html.
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