Obscure Nourishment

I've managed to clock up 100 comments over at Nourishing Obscurity, which gives me some quiet satisfaction. I noticed the other day in the list on the site that I was hoving in upon the century, but rather than leap in with some rash comments to gain my prize, I bided my time until it came naturally. Mr Higham is a hard-worker amongst bloggers. You turn your back from the article you were reading and it's already half-way down the page. Even so, I'm sure there's still more he hasn't told, but only hints at...

The post title having suggested itself for obvious reasons, it reminds me of something I meant to mention, for no other reason that it has brought me pleasure in my new job down in South London to discover, hidden away so as you'd never even see it unless you knew what to look for, a wonderful pie and mash shop, of which there are sadly few left. Walking through the door, it felt like I'd stepped through a time-warp 40 years or more, an impression helped by some old crooning crimble number on the radio at that moment. Everything was as it should be; the dodgy wooden benches, the vinegar, the tiles on the walls, the stout yeo-women serving in their pinafores, my fellow customers, who looked like they'd been their since the three-day week, and of course the marvelous pies, drowned in liquor (whatever that is). Definitely nourishing. Most certainly Obscure.