I love a bit of urban redevelopment, just like the next man. And its all the better if the planners use what’s available and add to it rather than the Berlin Method of bombing the place to dust and building a modernesque nightmare.

SoHo in New York is a prime example of how ya do it right.

Farringdon is another. The whole area east of Farringdon Road by the wonderful, old (and still used; certainly smells like its still used) Smithfields Meat Market and south of the Clerkenwell Road just sort’a crept up and became trendy. Filled with fabulous old buildings, all left wonderfully intact, most of which are now bars and restaurants. And slick and trendy offices. Used to be a dump, now its fabulous and buzzing. And obviously unaffordable to live or rent office space now, but you can’t have it all.

Only my pension people can afford their new offices there. Which is why I’ll be working til I’m 93. Bastards.

So we went to see them last night for a meeting of depression and disappointment, as always, and took the younger daughter with to sort out stuff for her ‘planning’ now she’s a working babe.

And afterwards we thought we might as well eat there, in the Meat Market. Because we love meat and you’re kind of eating it ‘at source’.
Ironic then that the place next door to the market offers ’40-day beef’ and ‘3-month-old’ steaks, when they could so easily provide really fresh stuff. Go figure.

I was more concerned with Kobe and Wagyu.

These almost mythical, mystical breeds of cattle roam the plains round Tokyo. (Do they actually have any plains around Tokyo? Maybe they roam the streets round Tokyo). They are fed beer and massaged with Sake when young. I didn’t make that up, honest. Its how they’re reared. You soak their feed in beer and whilst they’re drunk as (very big) skunks, you massage their little 2-ton bodies to ‘tenderise’ them for… er… later. And on a scale of things from ‘free-range’ to ‘foix gras’ this is a pretty acceptable life for animals who’s lives are destined to end on a plate in EC1.

I must confess, I’m not a steak fan. I really don’t dig on raw meat. Never have. Rachie loves it. She sat there eating with blood dripping down her chin like some beautiful Tyrannasaurus with orthodontistry.
I like my meat cooked. I know, that’s not how its supposed to be, its philistine, its not being in touch with my inner cave man, its an abuse of good beef. And I don’t fucking care.

But I do love a burger. So I had a Wagyu burger. Felt it was the least I could do after all that animal had been throught to get there. And I’d love to say ‘it changed my life’, or ‘I saw God’ or ‘I’ll never eat in KFC again’, but it wasn’t that brilliant. It was lovely, but just tasted a bit odd. I’d definitely try it again. Maybe next time I go to find out what happened to the pension I once had.

I’m hungry now.

Happy Friday,

A xxxx