“It’s the wavy building up on the right” a guy told me. I didn’t have my glasses on so I couldn’t see what he meant. Drawing closer to The Guardian and Observer headquarters I noted that it was indeed wavy and silver.
“Somebody working nights changed the stands around so it spelt Grauniad” (Private Eye’s name for this paper due to it’s typos) my companion explained “so they glued all the posts down on the floor”.
“Wow” I couldn’t help remarking “she must be from the fashion department surely”
“No she’s…” my companion waited till the woman, teetering, turned her head “yes it’s Polly Vernon. She sometimes writes about food for us”.
“She writes about food?” I exclaimed.
“Mostly about cocktails”.
If you get a chance to eat there, take it. It’s the journalistic equivalent of eating at the’ stars commissary’ at Paramount studios where, in the old days, you’d see Lana Turner with a tray, Ava Gardner picking at salad, her hair bound up in a turban, Clark Gable asking for a refill of coffee.