Date of Last Visit: 7 June 2008
The Victim: Me
The Damage: Less than £10?
The Background: I’ve become a compulsive shopper as of late. I really can’t help myself.
I think it’s because I normally go back to the U.S. with two empty suitcases around this time of year and stock up on all sorts of new duds. I don’t, unfortunately, have time for that this summer. So Oxford Street is getting to know me better than ever before. It knew me pretty well, that’s for sure, but I was more a looker than a buyer. Now the AMEX is primed and ready and I own four too many purses than ever before.
It’s buzzy when I enter…it’s not big place, maybe just eight stools? Five are full and I pick mine overlooking the cash register. (Photo taken from my stool.) The staff are fun and jovial and pleased to see me, a total stranger. I order a chorizo sandwich and because I got my ass kicked that morning by my personal trainer and it’s just coming up on 3 p.m. (when I think drinkng during the day becomes acceptable), I do treat myself to a sneaky glass of rioja.
The Food: The sandwich arrives in all its crispness and it is fantastic. I want it to go on and on and on. I watch them plate up ham and cheese for other guests, and I wish I was hungrier and/or already thinner so I could join in the fun. In short, I have a lovely sandwich and a lovely time and me and my AMEX are refueled and ready to hit the streets again. Which we do.
The Verdict: Love, love, love Fernandez & Wells. Simple is perfect and perfect is simple. Why haven’t I been here before? I will be back.